


Arsenic | Sex Slave #1 | Dark Erotic Romance | 18+

by kittykat44



Series: No Rest For The Wicked [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Blood Kink, Bondage and Discipline, Captivity, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Dark, Dark Romance, Dom/sub, Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gay Male Character, Historical, Implied/Referenced Incest, Kidnapping, Kitten, Knifeplay, LGBTQ Themes, Lactation Kink, Light Bondage, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Multi, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Punishment, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slave Trade, Slavery, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 67,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykat44/pseuds/kittykat44
Summary: It's the late 18th Century and the Industrial Revolution sets a divide between the world's rich and poor. Within the concealed cracks of luxury and power hides a booming dynasty that thrives on the sexual slavery of young men and women; a rising bloodline that runs too deep for the governments moral compass to break.  Where every kink you harbor and dark secret you desire can be bought with a price.When Cinesra Calvert wakes up in a glass cage full of bodies. She counts the dead to alive. Memories flood back to her as she stitches her kidnapping together. Stolen from the bakery that she spent her childhood in, taken away from her mother and younger sister she is forced into a world where evil kisses every bone of the men that captured her. He is everything she hates.With every brothel whore, human pet to chancellor and judge wrapped around his father's fingers, Micah Waitstill is the city street's wicked prince. Born into the embers of lust and money, he's never known anything else. As the eldest brother and next in command of the family reign, he gets gifted a silver haired girl by his uncle out of the blue. She is nothing he needs.Together, they are poison.





	1. Introduction | Cast of Characters

**Author's Note:**

> "God loved the birds and invented trees. 
> 
> Man loved the birds and invented cages." 
> 
> [Trigger Warning(s): All of them. The monster's stare back in this one.]
> 
> © All Rights Reserved

** Introduction | Cast of Characters **

This book contains very disturbing situations, sensitive themes, dubious consent, strong language, and graphic violence. Holds many trigger warnings, please do not read if subject matter disturbs you.  **  
**

© All Rights Reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint / translation or use of this material is prohibited.

 

**_ Nicholas Waitstill's Household  _ **

Nicholas Waitstill, 49 {Father and Sole Owner of Family Company}

Tabitha "Tabby" Waitstill, 29 at death {Deceased 10 years ago; Mother}

Micah "Waity" Waitstill, 22 {Eldest Brother; Next in Command, True Son to Nicholas}

Theodore Waitstill, 19 {Middle Brother; True Son to Nicholas}

Elle Pearson, 18  {Half Sister; Illegitimate Daughter to Tabitha}

Finn Waitstill, 17 {Youngest Brother; True Son to Nicholas}

┅

Egerton {Keeper and Head of the House Slaves}

Crogsworth {Overseer of City Brothels}

Radella, 26 {Head Cook; Elle's secret}

Lincoln "Link" {Butler}

┅

Cinesra "Kitten" Calvert, 18 {Female Slave; Former Pastry Maker}

Brinley, 16 {Male Slave; Transgender (FTM)}

Blythe, 15 {Female Slave; House Pet to Nicholas}

Beldon "Belly", 20 {Male Slave}

Aderyn, 17 {Female Slave}

 

**_ Henley Waitstill's Household  _ **

Henley Waitstill, 45 {Uncle; Brother to Nicholas}

Luella Waitstill, 39 {Aunt; Infertile, Wife to Henley}

┅

 _Casey, 24_ {Pet; Henley's Slave}

 

**_ Dorian Cuts' Household  _ **

Dorian Cuts {Father; Friend of Nicholas, Chief Magistrate}

Blossom Cuts {Mother; Housewife}

Cherry Cuts, 25 {Sister to Birch; High Lady of Court}

Birch Cuts, 21 {Best friend to Micah}

 

**_ Arleigh Calvert's Household and Bakery _ **

Arleigh Calvert {Mother to Cinesra, Owner of Small Bakery}

Michael {Father to Cinesra and Hemlock, Ran away after Hemlock's birth because he was in love with another woman.}

Hemlock "Locky" Calvert, 16  {Sister to Cinesra}

 

[Note: If you would like to see the graphics that accompany each chapter, alongside character casting images; visit the title on Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/story/157569037-arsenic-sex-slave-1-dark-erotic-romance-18%2B)


	2. Cinesra | Vials of Flesh and Blood

** Chapter 1: Vials of Flesh and Blood **

_My eyes had been accustomed to the darkness for what felt like weeks, when the first sight of sun burned my lids, I thought I had finally reached heaven._

I swallowed and felt my tongue scrape against the roof of my mouth like sandpaper. The first thought that occurred to me was that I needed to find a source of water. I tried narrowing my eyes at the taming sun that opened out in front of me. The second thought that travelled through me flamed like arsenic poisoning through my flesh...  _I need to run._

The light shined through a large metal encasing that lifted upwards. Two men shuffled into the room and took the only table that had seemed to be in front of me. A table meant people were here, and people meant someone had been watching.

I tried to see if I could make any of my limbs move but as I gained nerves on my fingers, I felt myself touching something soft and sponge.

My eyes shot open and fear grasped my throat like a vice.  _Sponge_.  _I was in the pantry getting ingredients for the bakerys daily sponge cake special when I heard the noise. It felt like a crack of a horsewhip against pure wood. I was alone as Locky and Mother had gone to the farmers market._

I look around and a scream crawled like a spider out of my mouth. Except, no sound came out. I collared my hand around my neck and I could feel my breathing come out in harsh bursts.

_Bodies._

There were naked bodies everywhere. The iron in blood stenched the air and I looked up to find myself in a glass encasing. A glass box full of bodies. I looked down to see I was lying naked and dirty on a brunettes torso. I shuddered and inched out of her way, only to bump into another body behind me. Under me, around me, on top of me. Flesh surrounded me and bile filled my mouth. I looked around and saw how some girls were waking like me, but some stayed asleep.

 _Not asleep... dead._ My mind rung like an explosion.

As more girls woke from slumber, I saw how no sound came from anyone. Tears stained everyones cheeks yet no sobs broke the silence.  _They've made us swallow something_ , I thought.  _Something to take our voices away._

Like a baby bird seeking her mother, I opened my mouth and tried my hardest to find my voice. I started shaking and rocking yet nothing came. Women of all shapes and sizes got up and started trashing against the glass. Leaving bloody hand stains against the clear case that held us captive. I looked down at my breasts and saw drying blood; yet nowhere was I cut. My silver hair covered the tops of my nipples and I saw that dirt and muck layered it to make it somewhat black.

I moved a dead girl and leant my head and back against the cool glass. Holding my knees to my chest, I waited in silence. A constant stream of tears burned through my face, washing away any surface level soot.

I raised my hand to my collarbone and felt the small healing puncture wound.  _I went to the main room and saw a singular man in the shadows. I dropped the flour and went to help him, thinking he needed water and food. He made the sound; nothing dangerous. I asked him if he needed help before touching his shoulder to stir him back to the present. Except I was flung back as cotton was pulled against my mouth and my back pressed against a man that had been behind me. I screamed and bit into the cotton, kicking and screaming for my life. I reached my leg and aimed for whatever I could hit. The shadow man walked leisurely towards me, like a hunter observing his prey before mealtime. He tilted his head to the side and said, "Shhh little mouse". I trashed against the other man and shook my head hoping he could see the plead for mercy in my eyes. The shadow man reached behind him and procured a needle filled with blue liquid. I felt my body retaliate harder, not wanting whatever the blue offered. Then two more men walked from the shadows and held my arms against them. Making me open for any destruction. The shadow man took the last step in front of me and injected me on my collar letting the needle empty its contents into my bloodstream. "Sleep now, little mouse"_

A touch sent me hurtling back to reality and I looked beside me, my whole body wracking and shaking with sobs. A sand-haired boy around my age, maybe younger sat beside me. Eyes as kind as a panther, I pushed back. The boy shook his head and sat down beside me, his eyes a white flag of surrender. He only sought an empty space to sit. I looked down at his body and then saw the same puncture wound on his neck. That's when I saw that he was naked like me, but maybe my eyes deceived me because the boy had small breasts and further down; an organ just like mine.

 _He was a girl?_ My thoughts questioned.

I looked away and focused on a splatter of blood on the floor. A cold shudder licked up my spine like a demon seducing Eve in the garden of Eden. I shuddered and pushed off the glass, folding into my body like a ball. The smell was chemical, I wanted to go home and sink into a bath. I wanted to hold Locky and tell her that I loved her once more.  _Just once more._

I could still hear some of the women throwing themselves against the glass, trying to crack the cage we lay in. Everyone that was supposed to wake had woken by now.  _I could have been one of the dead_ , I thought.  _The liquid they injected me with could have killed me if I had not been healthy._

I found myself wanting to be dead. It would still be better than whatever fresh hell this cage was an entrance to. I uncurl myself and look around me to see if I notice anyone familiar. Except all girls looked to be from many districts surrounding the capital cities walls. All paupers and beggars, no high ladies and courtesans of any kind.

Whoever is behind this, knows what they're doing.

I remember Ma telling me about the monthly cases of missing boys and girls. All around the ripe age of 16 years old. Once I passed my eighteenth name day, I thought I was sake and the stories was just an old maidens tale. A choking sound came from next to me, and that was the first noise to break through the hitting of glass.

I looked to see the she-boy had both hands around his neck, choking himself blue. I rushed beside him and took his hands in mine. I saw the desperation in his attempt to take his life and cupped his cheek shaking my head to hold on to hope.

"We will get out", I mouthed to him. Hoping he would understand what I meant. He shook his head profusely almost as if he knew what path lay ahead for all of us. I put his hands in mine and without looking down, I could feel the grime and dirt mix with the warmth of our skin. I didn't care that the only dream I clung to was the mutual desire of freedom with this she-boy that sat in front me. I didn't care that the only method was taking my life, I would find another.

Silence passed and not once did the she-boy let go of my hands. As the time swept the glass cage that held us, the realization that the glass could not shatter by human hands placed. The alive sat amongst the heap of bodies. I know what I had to do, I couldn't stomach it. But I knew it had to me done.

I lifted from my feet and stretched my body to stand. The she-boy looked up at me with tear stained eyes. I nudged my head towards the center of the cage. He looked behind me confused. I dropped my shoulders and walked towards the nearest body. She was a ginger with locket around her neck that had a carved F letter on it. I learnt how to read from a town square chef in exchange for fresh bread every second day. I taught Hemlock the basic alphabet but she never wanted to learn how to read stories like I did. She wanted to learn about the plants and flowers that surrounded our quaint district.

_"Isn't it beautiful that god made it so that the earth can give us everything?" she once asked me while we were kneading the sour-dough for the batch of miners that were expected to arrive at noon._

_"There is no god, Locky" I whispered, "If there was - the rich wouldn't be getting richer and the poor, poorer."_

_The miners never came and the sour-dough went stale sitting on the counter-top. I gave it to the chef instead to feed his pet dog._

I reached two fingers to the middle of the girls neck and felt for a pulse, when I couldn't find one - I reached under her bare arms and dragged her to the middle of the cage. I walked back and did the same to the next body I came across.

Slowly, I saw that the heap of bodies in the middle of the cage was increasing as more women helped me. The she-boy never got up from his position where we sat, the tears that stained his face only flooded faster.

When there was around a dozen dead girls that lay in the middle and we kept hope for the three or four that still lay on the ground with soft pulses, I went back to sit with the she-boy. I saw that he stopped crying, and instead stared blankly at the pile of bodies that sat in front of us. He looked like he wasn't even here. I was jealous that he could disassociate so easily, because I couldn't. I frowned and reached for his hands again, pulled them to my lap and held them. I needed the comfort.

It felt like hours passed before anything happened. Everyone stared at the bodies. Some even went back to check on the other girls that lay on the ground.

We seemed to be in a storehouse of some kind. I made that conclusion when the metal encasing lifted upwards once more, except no light came out hinting day's break had come and gone. Some of the girls shuffled back and sobs racked through their chest once more. I looked straight at the masked men that entered the storage. I felt the she-boys hand squeeze mine in distress. Unfazed, I saw as dozens of men filtered through the metal door. My mind had come to a standstill because everything was screaming that as long as I was in my own cage; I was safe.

There were no entrances or exits to the glass cage they held us in. I already surveyed each and every glass wall and there was no hidden ledge or lock. That raised concerns on the amount of air that was given to us and how long we would last. But I knew that they didn't put us in here to asphyxiate.

I see as one man raised his mask and stared at us harder. He frowned in confusion when he saw the bodies that lay in the middle. He was shoved by another man and the mask went back on his face. I heard harsh whispers and figured that their previous captors had never done this before.

I wanted to scream at them to take a hard look. This was there doing, or whoever puppeteered them. I felt my stomach retch but haven eaten nothing, nothing came to my mouth except acid. Our voices hadn't come back to us but we shielded our bodies and stared at them as if they held the judgement of our life and death. They probably did.

Men trickled down to the side of the room and opened a door that was on the ground. The world stood still and my blood turned to ice inside me. I felt the she-boy still next to me, and I knew that he realized the same thing I did.

I immediately searched the floor and my body spasmed when a finally saw it. In the corner of the room, where no one had thought to look because we were made to apprehend that doors were supposed to be vertical - lay a small hinge with no handle.

They came from under the ground and as the covert door opened, the masked men filled the space, our cage, our sanctuary for the little time we spent in it. They came forward to us with all sorts of sharp objects in their belts and arm bands. With a vicious look in their eyes that reminded me of stark hunger.

It seemed our voices finally came to us, because the only thing that ricocheted off the glass were the blood curdling cries and screams of women who were being sent to their death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Cinesra is pronounced "Sin-Ez-Ra"


	3. Micah | Dirty Water

** Chapter 2: Dirty Water **

A knock sounded the piano room and I stopped staring at the ivory keys. I never intended to reach this room, yet in times of contemplation - I seek the solace that only the silence in a music room can prescribe.

The piano still had her name engraved on the closing.  _Tabby Waitstill._  My mother hated every room in the house save for this one. She hated every gift my father gave save for this one.

"Enter" I spoke into the empty room. The door opened and Link's face stayed at the doorway. I smirked at his attire, he often dressed himself like a cabbage but today he looked slightly less comfortable in a white shirt and cotton trousers suspended to his shoulders.

"Apologies for disturbing, Young master Waitstill. Your father and uncle awaits your company in the meeting room."

Uncle Henley wasn't set to arrive until the day after next. His early arrival brought nothing of a surprise to me, he often administered logic at the last minute. I rose from the piano seat and made my way to the door, stopping short in front of Lincoln; the house butler.

I straightened his collar and knelt down to whisper in his ear, "Link, call me Micah otherwise I'll have Birch slip something stronger into your afternoon tea and your missus would not be pleased with your drunk arrival home" I smirked.

I left him with heated cheeks and sputtering words. My brothers and I always found pleasure in finding new ways to make Link squeal. He was a slender thing for 30-something years old. He knew naught about chivalry and house-keeping but he knew how to keep his mouth shut. That' all that mattered in the Waitstill household. One word to anyone who isn't privy to our business and you might just find yourself frothing at the mouth in a seaside alleyway. I grinned darkly. I no longer shook at the thought of cold murder and men that prayed to nothing but money and greed.

I descended the grand staircase in the east wing and passed the kitchen, finding my half-sister Elle talking to Radella by the pots. She likes to think no one knows about her illicit affair with the dark skinned cook who is nearly ten years her senior. But in a house where you need to be four steps ahead of everyone, Finn and I found her licking the servants cunt by the cleaning quarters. Had it been Theo, Finn or I who had Radella's muff on our tongues - Father would have had our heads on the chopping block. He has no problem with Elle or anyone experiencing the same sex although society dictates it as sinful. Fraternizing with the help, however, is an entirely different situation.

Theo lusts after our half-sister, so the picture would have painted him red with rage. Finn and I decided it wise to keep it to ourselves, not even mentioning to Elle that we knew her little secret. Yet, every time we sit in the dining hall and Radella comes out presenting the nights meals. Finn and I share a cursory smirk at each other at the look of hunger on Elle's face. Knowing full well that the dinner isn't what she starves for.

I walked toward the meeting room and knocked on the wood. The glimmer of the candle chandelier overhead flickered with the air when the door opened. Uncle Henley smiled brightly at me as if my presence was something he prayed for everyday. I let a touch of a smile hit the corner of my lips as I greeted him with a hug.

"My boy, you get broader and broader every time I see you," he grunted "When are you going to let him out, Nick?" he turned to my father, speaking like I was a caged animal under lock and key. Most days, it felt like I was. 

"It's good to see you, Uncle" I said, walking and taking a seat on the plush satin couch that faced both my father and uncle on the opposite couch. My father poured me a cap of whiskey and passed it over the table that separated us. I downed the glass in a second making both men laugh.

The burn felt ten times stronger when my Uncle spoke, "He looks the smitting image of Tabs" he said referring to my mother.

"You hear that, Mike?" My father smirked up at me, "You look like a fucking girl."

"Speaking of girls...Casey?" he called and out of the shadows in the corner of a room rose a small frame of a woman. She had strawberry stained hair that flowed in tresses to her round belly.  _She had a baby,_  I thought.  _It wasn't like Aunt Luella to let Uncle Henley knock up the whores._

Casey walked toward Uncle Henley while my father discussed the recent capture of male and female slaves. He said they were due to arrive at The Ivy by this morning, he would ask Egerton, our Keeper of slaves to go and fresh pick the ones headed for auction, brothels and personals to the court and justice tomorrow. Uncle Henley mentioned something about going with Egerton but I cancelled out the sounds.

I had never been into The Ivy. A storage containment that held the captives and presented them for the taking. My father had taken my mother once and she came back sick to her stomach, this was before she passed away from a plaguing fever. She told me that it was a place meant only for the cruelest of demons. Mother once believed that something or someone would stop this hateful trade of pussy and cock. She was one of the first to find out that in a city cloaked by darkness and a craving appetite for the twisted, it was the chancellors, the men of the law and everyone in between that enjoyed it the most. They were the ones that could afford such a high end cuisine of women and men alike.

Soon after Mothers death, Father kept Blythe. A too-young slave that fulfilled his needs and shared the same hair color that Mother once did. I looked around the room but Blythe was nowhere to be found, knowing that she could be at the baths safe from my fathers alcoholic state at the moment - I relaxed.

Both men were laughing over something and I leaned forward to pour myself another drink. Uncle Henley pulled on the translucent white material that clung to the slave like sweat. He turned Casey to me with a look of raw passion in his eyes. I tipped the glass to my lips and took my time drinking.

The material slipped from the slaves shoulders and pale heavy breasts came into view. I saw see that her nipples were peaked and small milky white beads sat atop them like dew on a blade of grass.

"After letting Casey have her baby," Uncle Henley spoke roughly cupping one breast in his hand and massaging the skin. "I found a new sort of pleasure from the slave's body." Casey shuddered under his touch and looked directly at me. My father got up from his seat and went to sit at his desk gathering paperwork and various documents into a pile.

I dragged my gaze back at the pretty pet that was told to walk over to me by my uncle. "I've come to love the taste of a woman's breastmilk, Micah. You should try it and see."

I downed the rest of the whiskey.

Casey walked towards me hesitantly and lifted the white cloth that draped across her waist. She straddled my lap and without asking for permission, slid her fingers through my hair. I grabbed her wrist and she let out a moan in response.

"May I, Master?" she asked me. I looked behind her at my Uncle who was stirring his liquor in his hand not looking away from the situation. He tipped his glass forward in invitation and I looked back at Casey. I nodded slightly and she dipped her head down to lick the corner of my mouth where a drop of whiskey still sat. I let go of her wrist and stared intently as she savored the small luxury in her mouth. Tipping her head back, her hair falling downward. She offered me her heavy breasts.

I parted my mouth slightly and kissed the corner of her rosey nipple. She let out a small sigh and relief parted from her lips when I closed my mouth on the bud and sucked. Not once closing my eyes, I reached for the side of her tit and squeezed the flesh, feeling the spurt of milk lace my mouth. Warm, it mixed with the bitterness of the whiskey I drank.

"Isn't she sweet?" Uncle Henley asked me as I fed on her. I've become immune to any sort of revulsion against a persons kinks. I harbored some dark ones of my own. As each bead of milk travelled down my throat, I looked to my father and Uncle who both had a twisted look of pride in their eyes. As if I was the product of both their accomplishments, showcased with my corrupted mind.

Casey sucked in a breath when I bit her nipple into my mouth. The pressure eased from her face and I saw a distant hint of sexual arousal, felt it when she started moving against my trouser-encased cock. Milk started dropping from her other breast as if asking for attention and I moved my mouth to latch on to the other one.

When Uncle Henley called for Casey to come sit in his lap and share with him, I asked for dismissal from the room. My father called me to his desk and gave me a set of papers that I needed to read and sign in order for the next batch of slaves to arrive safely. We had contacts within the higher system that kept what we did out of the papers and fears of the civilians minds. I had a benefactor meeting tomorrow morning with Cherry, my best friend Birch's older sister that I promised my father I would behave my best on. Smirking as if already disbelieving my statement, he excused me to get on with my day.

As I exited the meeting room, I saw my youngest brother Finn waiting besides the game room. Hiding in the dark was often his way of observing the world. When he noticed me, he came out of the shadows and paled at the look of my face.

"I'll keep the door," he whispered knowing already what I was going to ask. "Be quick"

I nodded my thanks and headed into the game room, hearing the door shut behind me. I could hear Finn's body slump against it and knew that he would wait till I got out. For a young boy of seventeen, Finn knew too much of the world and understood even more of what I did. Smarter than the whole house put together, he was too soft for the reality we lived in. I wasn't afraid to show that he was my favourite person in the world. We balanced each other, with his kind heart and my cold one.

I walked to the side of the room where a bathroom was fixed in with the plumbing up to date. Everything was up to fucking date. I entered and looked at myself in the mirror above the sink. Pale skin and sleep-lacking brown eyes stared back at me. My brown hair was a mess atop my head curling at different sides making me look lighter than I was.  _Emotionless_

I recounted the events in the meeting room and knelt down in front of the toilet. Lifting the lid, I stuck two fingers down my throat and a potion of milk and whiskey emptied out into the dirty water in front of me.


	4. Cinesra | The Shadow Man

** Chapter 3: The Shadow Man **

They gagged us and tied our wrists up to a bar in the warehouse wall. Our voices came back to us but all you could hear were the muffled sobs against cloth. Once the men came from underground, they injected us with a sedative and we were hosed down. Little did they know, no amount of washing could rinse the dirty feeling from my skin

My body felt lethargic, like it had been fighting a world war on its own. The sedative took longer on me, and the bruises and cuts on my body showed the result of fighting back. I held my breath when I felt rough hands travel my skin. They blindfolded me and a couple other girls so that we had no resort to any senses. It was a form of punishment.  

When I woke from the daze they put me under, I saw that a couple other girls were kicking and screaming. Hitting anything that came in front of them, demanding release by force. Except with the masked men surrounding each girl and the ratio being five to one. It was outnumbered. My vision was blurred but I could see that they strapped her against the ground and kicked her ribs with just the right amount of pressure so that a bruise bloomed, but one that would heal within the week. 

I screamed and got up from my position in the floor. I yelled at the men to let her go and when their faces turned to me, I was momentarily grateful that their attention was away from her. It felt like I was on another dimension, with fatigue wracking my muscles and every nerve in my body telling me to sleep. 

I went forward and a man caught my arms and shoved me upright. I threw a fist at his neck and pushed when I felt skin. I dug my nails into his neck and screamed. More men came toward me and threw me off the man. I fell to the ground only to get up a second later, combatting the sedative. I kicked another man with all my might and once they had me held down, I knew I lost. 

I closed my eyes when they kicked me and blocked the air from my windpipe. I focused on the pain, thriving off it. Knowing that this would be my fate if I wasn't smarter. In a fight against power, the only thing you can do is outsmart the source. I wouldn't fight unnecessarily anymore. 

So that's where I stood, when they took my limp body and hung me by my wrists with my toes touching the ground - I stopped any movement against. Never had I been more exposed in my life, my sight taken away but everything left to whoever wanted to see. 

I heard a distant clashing sound and then a handful of light female voices crowded into the room. At first, my blood stilled at the thought of more women being brought in to be put in the situation I was. But then I heard the male voices instruct them to clean us and groom us. 

My stomach turned over on itself. I couldn't stand to think that women would willingly keep quiet of the torture chamber and corruption that was under this roof... _all for a job?_ My thoughts came to a head when I felt gentle hands touch my hipbone and trail down to my pubic hair. I silently prayed that this would be over soon, whatever comes next. 

I heard water slosh and something being poured before feeling the cool sensation of sponge hit my naked body. Goosebumps travelled after the sponge and whoever was cleaning me tried soothing me by rubbing circles on my outer thighs. I wanted to grab her fingers and hold them to her heart, and scream. Heavens above, I wanted nothing more but to scream. Tell her that what she's doing is wrong and if women can't look out for other women - then the world would be flaming in riot. 

The sponge left my skin and something light was put on my underarms. Feeling the foamy cream, I knew what was happening. As if it were called upon, the sharp metallic edge of a straight knife followed the cream and cut the hair underneath it. 

I had always groomed myself at home, in the bath in a place of privacy.  I cut my silver hair with a sharper knife and Locky would always get the back for me. It would end up being a chopped mess but she'd always tell me everything suited me. My sister had a heart made of gold in a city where everything was charcoal in comparison. Tears stained the blindfold as I grieved her and my mother. They would be worried sick by now, not knowing where I went or why I wasn't with them. 

I would never run away like my father did. I prayed to every spirit out there that they would not think that low of me. A bittersweet feeling ran through me when I replayed the little memory I had of the man that seeded my mother and made up half of me. He left before any real love could settle in my heart, but the fondness of a father's touch was something snatched away from me when I was turning three years old. Hemlock had just been born, sometimes I envy her lack of recollection. It meant that she didn't know what she was missing. Couldn't possibly crave it. 

I heard the soft voice whisper something about this being over soon enough before she spread the foam cream on my pubic hair and surrounding my sex. I thought how the first person to touch me down there besides me, is a complete stranger woman. One I would never know the name of, let alone the sight of. 

I felt the sting of the blade as it cut along my skin, heard the blade dip against the water as she rinsed off my hair and the cream. Soon enough, there was no warmth left and I was even more bare than initially. I heard the women leave the warehouse and that familiar metal door stayed close for a while. 

My arms turned numb, pins and needles spreading like wildfire across my body. I ached for the hard wood and stiff mattress of my bed. Never knowing comfort before it was taken away from me. I couldn't hear much of the other women, they kept as quiet as me. Perhaps, we all had the same idea. I thought about the she-boy and wished that he was doing well. He knew that something bad would happen, he knew as soon as we woke in the glass cage. He tried telling me with his eyes but I was too stubborn to face it. 

I patterned the shuffling of the mens boots and my body stilled after hours of hearing the same rhythmic walking, the arrangement of steps stopped and shifted. The door was being opened and I felt the small warmth of sunlight hit my skin and lighten the darkness of my blindfold. A sharper staccato beat of footfalls entered, followed by a scuffling of feet. 

 _This was a different type of walk,_  I thought.  _You could immediately tell a person of authority was in the room by the sound of how they walked._

I heard the exchange between what I assumed was the captain of the masked men and the new stranger that crossed the threshold into their captivity. The deep rumble of a laugh came from straight ahead and my heartbeat grew faster. Something was wrong, it was nearly palpable in the air. Wronger than it should be. 

I heard the voice travel across the room and felt a singe of relief when the stranger started for the other end of the bar. As selfish as it was a thought, I was glad that he decided to start with the women farthest from me. My mind started working faster and faster as my body connected the feeling of fear to the recent voice. Recognizability oozed from the man's sighs of content as he made his way across the throng of women all lined up and exposed completely. 

"You'll do well with this batch, Egerton," the voice hummed "Send note to Crogsworth to clear up some empty rooms. I can already foresee some of these beauties at the pleasure houses" 

"Certainly, sir" the second voice rang, distinctly higher in pitch. 

As he picked out some of the women, I could hear the clinks of the shackles coming loose. The women were being pulled to the side. "This one, how exotic," he whispered to who I assumed was Egerton. 

"Perhaps to the Molly Houses, Sir?" Egerton replied "A cross dresser perhaps. Or a male impersonator..." I knew they were now talking about the she-boy. I'd like to think of him as a friend, and I hoped they chose nothing short of something that he could easily escape. 

"No, unshackle this one... He might be useful yet" 

That voice. There was something that I couldn't quite place, something known. Almost, familiar. I felt the voice trickle closer to where I was hung and like clockwork, my body tensed sending signal to my brain that there was danger close by. 

A hot breath touched my skin when I knew he was standing in front of me. I felt him touch the ends of my hair and heard his calloused fingers scrape against it. My chest rose with unease as his finger slowly travelled down to my breast and his thumb lightly met my nipple. I flinched back and into the wall. 

"This one," the voice rung like hard liquor and harder destruction. "Put this one in my carriage. I'll see that she goes straight with me." 

"Master Henley, this one is volatile," the commanders voice came out. "Let me show you a more docile pet." 

He tutted against the roof of his mouth and it felt like I was being doused in oil and grease. Something that couldn't rub off me unless I dug underneath my flesh and ripped out skin. That's when the realization hit me, and hell froze over. 

A soft gasp escaped my mouth but couldn't make it out as the memory stirred back. 

_"Sleep now, little mouse"_

The shadow man. It was him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The term "transgender" was never really used in the 18th century. Rather, A 'Molly boy" or a "cross dresser" was frequent. Brinley is a female to male transgender to clear up any confusion you might have.


	5. Micah | Hickory Dickory Dock

** Chapter 4: Hickory Dickory Dock **

Cherry Cuts was something of an enigma.

After attending a benefactor meeting with her and dealing with issues that were raised with the surplus disappearances, we came to the conclusion that we would hold off any more batches for the next couple of months. Cherry knew about the family business long before I did, she managed the inside whilst I did the out.

"Your father won't be happy," she murmured getting into the carriage that awaited us after our meeting in the town house. "He'll think you're doing this out of spite"

I shook my head and told the carriage rider to head for the Main Square. "He'll understand after I explain that the company was in jeopardy."

"Waity, you and I both know that the company was under no stress or turmoil," Cherry sighed after reaching into her purse and brought out cherry lip stain to dab on her plush lips. "The only time your fathers company would ever be in a state of peril is if all the cunts and cunny in the world disappeared overnight."

I grinned and looked out at the main street. "If I left it to my father, they would."

Silence blanketed us all the way to the town square. That was one thing I'd always appreciate from Cherry. She'd never make an effort at conversation if it wasn't mutual. There was a time when our fathers spoke of wedding us together. Dorian Cuts and Nicholas Waitstill held power in the cusp of the palm and joining forces would mean total dominion. I wouldn't have minded, the marriage wouldn't have been out of love rather, convenience. However, love was never something I held strong belief in.

When we reached the Main Square, I got out and put my hand out for Cherry to climb out the carriage. As she straightened her skirts, I walked forward to the driver. I reached into my longcoat pocket and paid him for our travels.

"Well if it isn't my favourite slice of arse," a voice came from behind me and I smiled knowing who it belonged to immediately. "Oh and you, Cherry dear. It's good to see you as well"

I turned and saw Cherry roll her eyes as her brother stepped down from the ledge he sat on. Birch Cuts didn't walk, he traipsed wherever he went. His well tailored suit and his position sitting on the ground made him stick out like a sore thumb but he paid no attention and gave no shits to those around him unless it profited him somehow.

I walked toward him and brought him into me for a brotherly hug. He was the closest thing I had to a right hand and confidant. Having known him for longer than I can remember, his freckled face and perpetual smirk came to become a place of comfort to me.

"If you two mothers have finished your meeting, we have lunch reservations at the Shell" Cherry picked non existent fluff from her neck scarf. I pushed Birch in a friendly gesture and the three of us headed into the crowded streets. This part of town was filled with aristocrats and blue blood but all three of us were faces that was not easily forgettable. Birch being the lesser known of us, was still approached by many before we reached the Shell.

When we sat at our table and gave our orders, I pulled out the days telegraph from the paper slot near the table. I read and surveyed for any skeptical headlines or missing persons report. After clearing that days report, I folded the paper in relief.

Sods law behind my quick thoughts. Just as I looked to Cherry and Birch to confirm my statement, a ruckus sounded from the doorway. A young girl filled with a handful of papers in her hand tripped on her entrance to the dining restaurant. People stopped playing their cards and eating their meals to look at her. She had fallen and hit her elbow against the metal ledge. The papers flew from her hand and dispersed around her. A couple people tutted and tsked in disgust as if she planned on falling on herself.

I looked at the main counter and having seen no waitress or waiter attending to her, I looked at Birch and nodded my head toward the door. His face was stoic and deadpan as he grunted. He already knew what I meant but he kicked a fuss anyway, knowing this would do nothing for him.

Both of us walked to the young girl with Cherry trailing behind us. I went and picked up the girl from the floor, while Birch went to call for help from one of the workers and Cherry gathered the scattered sheets of paper.

"You alright there?" I grunted as the teenage girl gathered her pants that looked to be two sizes to big on her. She nodded rapidly and looked up at me in hesitation.

"Here you go, Petal" Cherry said as she handed the girl her papers. I looked down and quickly saw a Missing Persons sign before the girl clutched the papers to her chest, hiding both the photograph and the name.

"T-th- thank you, sir," She said to the ground. She walked forward and as she passed Cherry, she did what looked to be a slight bend of her body in thanks "Miss"

She walked up to the main table where Birch was talking to a waitress, smirking at her. I shook my head in disbelief, give the man a couple seconds and he'd have every female in the vicinity on their knees begging to be filled. When the girl excused herself and Birch took his gaze off the waitress and looked at her, his face shifted in a double take.

I narrowed my eyes and looked in astonishment. Cherry mouthed in question and I tilted my head to the scene in front of me.

The young girl was tall enough to reach Birch's shoulders but I could tell that there was an immense age gap. Yet, never in my devil-ridden life had I seen Birch Cuts without his words.

Cherry seemed to be thinking the exact same predicament because both of us backed our bodies and sat on the bench nearest to us to watch the wonder play out in front of us. I crossed my legs and leaned forward to gain a bit of insight on the seemingly fascinating conversation that a smitten Birch Cuts would present.

"Excuse me, Miss," the girl put her papers down on the table and gave no sign of interest towards our little Birch. He stepped back to allow her to lean forward and ask something of the waitress. The waitress smiled pityingly at the girl and looked at what she was wearing before she motioned that she would be back in a minute.

The girl looked to be dressed in a burlap sack. With brown loose pants that were tied to her high waist and a white button up shirt that was tucked in. She looked nothing but plain to the eyes, something that would camouflage into the wall. All except her pale blonde hair, almost grey to the eyes. She shuffled uncomfortably, finally noticing the struttingly strong gaze of Birch. She looked up at him and a smile touched the corner of his mouth. He turned his body toward her and took a step closer to her, introducing himself.

The girl stepped back and looked toward the kitchen door in desperation. Birch frowned and looked back at where Cherry and I were sitting. I shrugged in amusement and he shook his head and looked back at the girl not knowing what the hell he should do.

A pause in my stature came when the cook came out and looked around until his eyes found the young girls. She moved around Birch and leaned across the table top and handed the documents to the chef.

"It's my sister," the girl breathed out in a rush. "She's missing, mister."

The cook looked across her facial expressions and nodded once before taking the papers from her grasp. My gaze moved swiftly over as Birch hid them from view making his way to Cherry and me.

He handed money to the doorkeeper to pay for our meals even though they never did arrive to us and he exited the Shell. I got out with a grin on my face, regardless of the slow creep that dug through my back from the girl and her missing sister.  _Maybe it was a good idea that we slowed down business for the next couple of months. Questions were something the company never needed._

I looked forward at Birch and couldn't help but laugh lightly at the unforgiving expression on his face. "If I do see it, Cherry," I spoke loud enough for him to hear "I think Birchy just got his first taste of rejection"

"Shut up, Waitstill. You fat cocked bastard" Birch replied before putting a mint leaf in his mouth. Birch always carried a handful of mint leaves in his waist pocket. The love of plants came from his mother, she named him after a tree for Christ's sake. He once told me that it gave him a sense of control and peace. We had a bet running that whenever he found a woman that went crazy for leaves as much as he did, was the day I'd sit and count every single freckle on his body and for every fifteen - we'd both take a shot and cheers to true love. 

Cherry and I laughed before all three of us headed back home.

When we entered the gates to my fathers house, Cherry told us that she would catch up with us in a while. Whenever she came to our house, she'd always pay her respects to my mother's grave in the corner of the courtyard. Theo and I told Father that it was a bit morbid, burying her in a house she so dreadfully wanted away from. But my father heard nothing of it and continued down his headstrong route of mourning.

I walked up the steps that led to the main door and saw Birch follow behind. Before my foot touched the last step, the large ceiling high doors opened and two man servants greeted my arrival with plastered smiles.

"I give him all of two minutes" Birch observed from behind me as we entered the main living room. As if on cue, Lincoln waddled up to me in a gruff. "I lied, I meant two seconds" Birch added and soon after, Lincoln was asking about my outing and queried if I needed anything.

"Your uncle gives his regards, Master Micah. He came earlier this afternoon whilst you were out. He left a note and....  _others_  but did mention to let no one but you open this." Link said passing me a two folded sheet of rice paper with ink script within it.

Opening it to see what it held, I opened my mouth to remind Lincoln not to address me by anything by my name once again. Thinking of another harmless threat to tease his mind with. But the scripture in the note stopped me short. A key fell from the paper and clinked as it dropped to the floor, filling the room with a blanket of silence.  I blinked and read it twice over before making sense of what it meant.

_Waity, Take her as a present from your dear Uncle for your upcoming succession into the company. I picked the little mouse fresh out the crop for you and she stays caged in your room, waiting for your discipline._


	6. Cinesra | Puncture Wounds

** Chapter 5: Puncture Wounds **

I woke laying on a marble floor, wearing nothing but a baby blue chiffon drape to cover me from the cold sting. As my eyes came to, I saw that I was no longer chained in the back seat of a carriage, rather curled in a larger than normal animal cage. 

The sinking feeling of capture hit me once more and I finally let go of all hope of this being a dream. I orientated myself and saw that I was in a bedroom the size of a library. A tear slid down my cheek when I gathered that this room belonged to whoever I belonged to. Shaking my head in an lone room like a manic, I wouldn't let myself think that way. I always belonged to myself, I'm the sole owner of my body and mind. 

 In the corner of my cage, I saw a bowl of clean water and next to it an empty chamber pot for when I needed to relieve myself. The humiliating thought that someone might watch as I urinate caused the bile to rise up my throat. I unfolded myself and sat upright, hugging my knees to my chest and looking around the cage for a lock but there would be no point without the key.Even then, if I managed to get out of this cage, how would I get out of this house? I didn't even know if I was in the same town. I would stay low for now, make a plan and route my escape wisely. 

Until then, I would thank the spirits for tender mercies. I was no longer naked. I was no longer blindfolded and gagged. I was alive. 

The room looked to be masculine yet the colors that stained the wall and bedsheets were stark white. Not letting anything about its owner away, as if every thread count kept its masters secrets in heart. The room had little light shining through the curtained windows, but candle light flickered from every corner. Shelves upon shelves lined the back wall across the bed and near the fireplace. Books that I would kill to escape to, stories that would end up being better than my own. 

I found myself trying to know what date it was. It would give me an idea how long I've been missing but I couldn't possibly know with the amount of time I had spent unconscious. I licked my lips and felt the dry and chapped skin burn with the touch of tongue.  I tried raising my hand to touch them, but that's when I saw I was shackled to an iron ring that was embedded to the wall outside my cage. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry, it would be a waste of my body's nutrition and the devil only knows when I'd be relieved with food. 

It struck me that my bound hands meant I would be drinking like a pet. Knowing nothing of privilege, my family never grew up in riches. However, we were mannered and I knew now that no matter how much embarrassment lined my limbs, I would do whatever the hell I could to survive. 

I arched my back into my knees and leant my head down to reach my mouth to the water bowl. I thought to how cats and dogs drank and curled the edge of my mouth and licked up as much water as I could. The noise was mortifying and I was thirsty enough not to care as water spilt and dropped down my throat. I got lost in the consolation of finally finding replenishment through hydration. So lost, that I didn't hear when the door of the bedroom opened and a man stood watching me. 

I felt him before I heard him, his steps too deliberately silent. The feeling of trepidation bit every ridge of my spine, almost like walking up stairs in the dark and not knowing when or where the last step is. I looked up from my water bowl and my breath hitched. 

He stood six feet tall with eyes that the darkest brown that anyone not looking close enough would call it black. My blood ran cold when he took a step into the room, he looked down at me with his hands in his waist coat pockets, they were clenched against the material. His linen shirt stuck closely to him and everything about him screamed a chilling scream. 

I knelt up from my bowl, not bothering to show my disdain. My lip curled in disgust and my eyes were loud enough to show my mortification. He titled his head slightly and his mop of brown hair showed me that he runs his fingers through it often. A lock of hair fell on his eyelid but he showed no movement to move it. A small burst of pride filled my gut when I saw that he looked confused with me, almost like I wasn't what he was expecting. His nostrils flared a look of raw hate travelled y way. The silence between us was palpable, but I wasn't going to be the first one to speak. 

Almost understanding this, he walked toward me slowly. I backed away and slid across the floor until my body was slammed against the wall and I was the farthest from him I could achieve. When he reached the start of my cage, he bent down and held one post in between his hands. My gaze locked with his fingers. They looked like fingers that were made to kill, made to wrap around an innocents throat and press into the windpipe so that no air could be taken. He had a ring along his middle finger, with a "W" on the middle as it coiled around.

 _A branding,_  I thought.  _Made to indent a persons flesh when he kills them._

As he put one hand on the lock and twirled it around his finger, watching as I saw the temptation ignite inside me. The temptation to plead for pity, to ask for my release. He saw it clear as day but I looked from the lock and straight to his eyes in challenge. I would not beg for release. I would not speak, because that's what he wants. I would bide my time and wait. I would be smart about my freedom, play the role and keep to my course until I see my opening.

"Not a mouse, _"_  he whispered, looking at my face mesmerized. His hateful eyes moved from my brows slowly down to my lips, taking in every inch of my face. I noticed he never looked down at my body once since he entered. "You're too obstinate for a mouse"

His voice dripped honey down my lungs, making me feel too suffocated to take a breath. Rough and edged, it sounded like he only used it when he needed to. Never excessively wasting words. My body recoiled and I looked away from his scrutiny. In another world, another time - I would have thought him to be charming in his looks, a tempting danger had I met him on the high streets. But this was my truth, he was my captor and I his slave. For that, I wished him nothing more but to burn in the darkest and deepest recesses of Hades' House. 

He moved his hands off the iron cage so fast, I thought it burned him. He got up, turned and walked to the door. He reached into his waist pocket and bought from it a key. My eyes lit up and my body like a magnet moved to the cage and I held two bars in both hands as I eyed the key in desire. A smirk hit the corners of his mouth as if tempting me with liberty for my abduction was all a silly game to him. 

Placing the key on a high shelf near the door, he put a piece of rice paper next to it. "As smart as you may think you are, kitten. Don't waste any time on deliberating an escape. As orderly as you plan your steps,  _always_  remember" He paused and blew out the candle lights in each corner of the room, slowly blanketing me in darkness. Then, he walked toward my cage and knelt down in front of me. I didn't move away, showing no fear. 

He reached between the bar and placed the pad of his thumb on my bottom lip causing my mouth to part. Moving his stare up, we looked at each other with only a an enclosure dividing us. "I will  _always_  be four steps ahead" 

He stood, blew out the last candle and left. 


	7. Cinesra | A Colony of Wasps

** Chapter 7: A Colony of Wasps **

After knowing he had gone for certain, the darkness unnerved me more than I anticipated. I swallowed and exhaled deep breaths knowing that this was the reaction he wanted from me. I wouldn't give him what he wanted. Not now, not  _ever_. 

So I sunk back, the bars of my cage being the only indicator of where I was. I stared blankly at nothing, thinking back to what could have been only a couple days ago. When I was free to go into the town square, free to pick berries from the farmers market so that I could make berry cream for the cakes. I wanted to feel my muscles tire from kneading and flipping dough the whole day, I ached to feel the soft flour and hear the crack of an egg. All simplicities that I would possibly never get back. 

I longed to hug Locky and Ma. Tell them to savor each day and not to fight over the little things. I wanted to sit down and hear all about the medicinal value in different sap trees from my sister. Perchance, go to the theater at least once with Ma. Wear our best dress and corset, pretend for one day that all was well in the Calvert's house and money was not an issue. 

I didn't know I was sobbing. In fact, my own whimpers brought me back. Over the past couple of days, I found that I disassociated often, my brain giving me little peace from the present. 

"C'mon, you cock-eyed nimrod" I heard a voice come from out the door. Someone was coming in from the halls. I straightened my back and tried listening, praying that they weren't coming for me. The voice did not belong to devil that now held me captive, it was a different voice. It was the voice from earlier in the storage house...  _Egerton_! 

"She's in here," Egerton said to whomever was walking with him. "I'll take her and the rest of them to the bath houses, Link. You go and tell the fat arse to get something cooking in the slaves quarters." 

"Radella's arse is about as  _small_  as your brain. You'd be wise to keep your mouth down as well. These walls have ears and you and I both know all it takes is one Waitstill and we'd be packing our bags." The second voice, supposedly Link replied sneering. 

The door to the bedroom opened and a round shaped man walked in with a candle holder in hand. He looked around the room and once he found me lumped in the corner, a glint of pity fled his eyes. He put his large candle holder down on the high shelf and grabbed the key that lay there. 

_Hope._

It flooded into me like rainfall in the Sahara. I crawled to the opening of the cage and watched as he knelt down and put the key into the lock. My heart increased to sky high and I looked up at the burly man. His mustache had bits of food on the corners and his eyes drooped down showing reasonable age. 

I swallowed and opened my mouth, "Sir, please." My voice came out husky and deep from not using it. The man tutted and shook his head as if everything and anything I was going to say would be useless. 

"Love, I aint the person you should beg. In fact, I wouldn't waste my voice. Not one of yous have ever got out of here." The key fit in perfectly and the click indicated the first set of unlocked orders. As he moved to turn the key once more, I thought about how hard it would be to take this one man. Sure, he was stronger and rounder. But I bet I was faster, and if I played my time right I could outrun him and look for the nearest window and escape through that. 

I looked around the room for a feasible object that could be a make-shift weapon in case I needed it, but the only thing I could come to was hitting the man with a large book. I heard the lock click and I was running out of time, my shackles rung as I moved closer and the door of the cage opened. 

Then the man reached into his shoe and took out a knife. I gasped and backed away from the blade. 

"Nah nah, dove. I'm not going to use this until and unless you give me reason to. Understand?" Egerton asked with pellucid eyes. I nodded as fast as I could showing a resemblance of willingness. He walked around and unclasped the lead that conjoined to my shackles from the wall. He wrapped it around his wrist twice before he motioned for me to come out the cage. 

I crawled on all fours until the cage door was slammed shut behind me and I got up and stood straight. My back ached from having to be knelt down for such a long period of time, and my bones clicked from the sudden change of posture. 

He guided me with my chain and my only chance of escape was burned to the ground when he held the knife in one hand and the candle holder in the other. Closing the bedroom behind him he lead me on and I followed like the weak person I told myself I wouldn't become. 

* * *

 

The bath houses were laid out so that there were multiple pools of fresh water that the slaves and helpers would come and cleanse themselves with. A block of fruit soap in a dozen or more holders being the only thing that could scrub any dirt and filth on your body and hair. When I walked in with Egerton hooking me onto a iron ring next to the bathing pool, I saw that many slaves and pets were helping each other. A woman was trimming a male pets beard and on the side with the steamers and benches, many were grooming others pubic hair. 

I looked around and saw that a couple girls from my initial capture were here. Egerton unshackled me and looked at me straight in the eyes challenging me to try him.  _Foolish man,_  I thought.  _This was not the time nor place for escape._

He guided me to an empty pool where 5 pets gathered around looking as frightened as I felt. I saw that the she-boy was here too, looking dismally at the water and trailing a long finger across the surface of it. I coughed hoping I could catch his attention but he looked on at the water in a trance. 

"You must bathe and go to the changers where your clothes will be waiting for you. After you cloth yourselves, our cook will escort you to the slaves quarters where an early supper will be provided as there is a formal dinner function tonight. All of you must attend to your masters. Speak only when spoken too and if I hear even a small complaint on the way you breathe, I shall ensure that you will starve until you learn your lesson." Egerton said calmly before retreating and exiting the bath house. 

Almost in a docile trance, the three female slaves and the two male slaves started undressing their chiffon drapes and stepping into the steaming bath. One woman hissed as the hot water touched her cuts and scars, showing that she was owned by an unkind master. 

I looked toward the she-boy who stood next to a male slave who looked to be older than both of us and had skin the color of dark chocolate. I walked toward them, trying to shy my eyes away from their body as they undressed. 

"You were in the glass box with me?" I asked the she-boy, turning to see the male slave had a look of confusion on his face. 

"They kept you with the girl slaves?" he asked.

The she-boy looked at me with sad eyes and then back at the male slave who was now fully naked, not once cowering to hide his girth. 

"My name's Brinley," the she-boy looked at me and once his pale drape fell, the other slave gasped under his breath seeing soft small peaks for breasts and a shaved pussy. Brinley looked at the other slave, "Yes Belly, they put me with them because I came out my mothers cunny with a cunny of my own." 

I had assumed that Brinley was a molly-boy from the start. The forced roughness to his voice, all the while keeping his softer than normal masculinity showed that he was cross-gendered. 

"I'm Cinesra," I said reaching for the material on my shoulder and gently pushing it down my arm, feeling it slide and fall at my feet. "And I don't care what your body looked like when you were born, just tell me how I should address you and I shall" 

Brinley looked up at me, and for the first time since waking up in that hell ridden glass box - I found comfort in a smile. A friend was something I was grateful to have, it would make the days go faster and a partner to plot how both of us would get home.

All three of us stepped into the bathing pool and Brinley introduced me to Beldon, who insisted I call him Belly, because his Ma and Pa do so. We met Aderyn who was another girl slave that came the same day we did and she said she had yet to meet her master, but she prayed that he was kind. 

"How old are you, Brinley?" I asked as I washed his hair with the fruit soap. Both of us took turns scrubbing the putrid feeling of rot from multiple touches on each other. I learnt that Brinley lived a desolate life with his mother who preached God's word for a few shillings. Before his capture, a man had given him multiple whippings for coming home with a boy from a tavern. I apologized and he told me he was used to it. 

"Sixteen till my name-day this spring" he replied and I could hear a tilt to his accent that came from learning to speak on the streets. It reminded me of home and I clung to the ease that this boy gave. 

"My sister, Hemlock - she's your age. She would've liked you." I murmured before bringing a bowl into the pool and reaching up to pour the water on Brinley's head. I felt oddly protective of him, his age meant innocence to an extent and although I was only a couple years older; this place was meant for no soul. 

When we finished and got dressed, the cook came and lead us into a conjoined small hub called the slaves quarters. Aderyn had to go to her master's bedroom as per word from Egerton, and I wondered if she would get a meal like the rest of us. It seemed to be external from the main manor and only when I stepped foot in it, did I see the extent of how many people were enslaved here. Be it from the house help, to personal pets. Whoever the "Waitstill's" were came from nothing but silver money. 

We sat down in the kitchen and were served chicken broth with a slice of bread each. The bread looked nothing like what I made at home, and I wondered where they stocked their rolls from. I tried searching the crust for an indication as to which bakery it came from so that I could know where I was situated and how far I was from home, but the slices were cut too thin. 

As everyone gouged on their meals, my appetite was lost. I didn't want to eat, nor did I want to even entertain the idea that I would be here for long. Eating meant just that. 

"Don't be stubborn, Cinesra," Brinley said from infront of me "Heaven knows when we'll be fed next." 

I looked up and saw a look of understanding in his eyes. He was smart for a lad his age and I knew I needed to start being smarter. If I was going to do this, If I was going to get the hell out of here - I would need to survive. 

I picked up my spoon and began scooping soupy broth into my mouth. My stomach grumbled and I groaned softly at the warmth that passed through me. I hadn't eaten for days, and every spoonful I swallowed - my mouth salivated in thanks. 

A loud clamor stopped me from taking my first bite of stale bread and I looked up and saw a dark haired man come into the kitchen with Aderyn by his side. She looked down in embarrassment and her flush cheeks made me look for bruises. Nothing had been ruffled save for her pride.  _From what?_  I wondered.  In fact the boy that brought her in looked more distraught that she was, thus I assumed he was her new master. 

"Where the  _hell_  is Egerton?" the boy asked the chefs that were cooking the next batch of food. He was dressed properly with a blouse and a waist coat. Yet, the only thing that caught my eye was the ring. The same "W" twined ring that I had seen earlier. 

Egerton came bustling down the stairs from the upstairs dining hall and locked eyes with the boy. "Young master Finn," he sounded shocked "What on earth are you doing here? Please go upstairs, I'll join you there at once" 

He spoke like we were rats and not people. Finn looked across to where Egerton was standing but stopped short when he saw Brinley. He was the only one unfazed by the whole pandemonium, still having his soup as if not even an earthquake could rattle his bones. Finn looked at Brinley with a strange look passing his face. Silence cloaked the area before Egerton travelled his gaze. 

"You," Egerton said to Brinley. He didn't hear him so I kicked him under the table and he looked up, lips wet with the spoon still in his mouth. Brinley looked to where I nudged my head and he stood up when Egerton told him to. 

"N- No," Finn said still looking at Brinley, forgetting his earlier rage at whatever it was caused by. He shook off the trance like stupor and focused his attention on Egerton. "I already told Father, I don't  _want_  a pet" 

"But Master Finn, you father insists that you keep one for training." 

Finn gently moved Aderyn forward, who still looked shocked at the whole ordeal. "Then give this one to my brother. Theo would enjoy her more than I ever will, I assure you." 

"We've procured a male slave for your brother as him and your sister will share." I already knew, not knowing how, but I knew they spoke of Belly. A shudder passed through me, this family shared siblings and slaves. Nothing about this place was right. 

"I have no use for her. It shall be a waste. I don't fancy the tribulations that comes with keeping a pet and I have already expressed this to you, Egerton" 

Finn dragged his gaze back to where Brinley was standing, he looked at him like he couldn't quite understand his own fascination. Like he was fighting inner turmoil with not wanting something and needing it at the same time. "Where are you going to?" He spoke softly and directly to Brinely and Egerton replied in Brinley's stead. "He's a molly-boy, sir. We were going to put him in one of the brothels, but your Uncle asked him to be here instead. Perhaps the stables?" 

Brinley finally looked at Finn directly and I saw his breath hitch at the shared contact. I would have been happy under different circumstances. Finn looked unsettled by the stare and he so he broke it and looked at Egerton. "S-send him to my table during dinner" 

As Finn pulled his eyes away from Brinley, he turned and exited the kitchen with flushed cheeks and knotted brows. 


	8. Micah | The Inside of a Pomegranate

** Chapter 7: The Inside of a Pomegranate **

I tucked my linen shirt into my pants and looked absentmindedly at the mirror. Her cage was empty when I walked in from my bath. Egerton already mentioned that he needed to wash them and cloth them for Father's dinner tonight. 

Lacing up the strings to my blouse, I thought back to the silver haired kitten my Uncle gifted me. He said she was a mouse, but when I saw the spark in her eyes I knew that she ate mice-like people for dinner. So the name I gave her fit, she was smart and cunning. To a point where I could almost hear the gears shifting in her mind at my every move. 

She was as alluring as an Indian cobra, her skin soft and eyes so blue they looked ghostly. I wanted to bite into her flesh and see how red her blood ran in contrast to her eyes. Press into her stomach until I could feel her muscle like the seeds in the inside of a pomegranate. I wanted to see how far I could test her before she breaks. 

I wasn't looking for a pet. In fact, I made sure my father knew this. I sought release in the pleasure districts and forget about the girl the next day. It was enough for me. Pet's were the things that Theo and Elle and my Father himself was very fond of. Yet, when I saw her licking up that water and saw it drip down to her thighs. I couldn't get myself to give her back. 

I tied a loose knot once the laces were done. I turned, lifted a small vial of pressed cologne and pressed the glass dropper on my neck watching the liquid slide down to my collar. A knock sounded my door and I turned to see Birch leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. 

"My father and yours have nearly finished the bottle. You can't leave me to enter on my own to whatever futile conversation they're possibly enjoying." Birch's face lit with the flickers of candle, the flames acting as a dramatic gesture to highlight his cheekbones. I smirked and turned toward him. 

"When have I  _ever_  done so?" 

* * *

The table was lined in Roman cloth and place mats with Greek embroidery embellished the plates. "Nothing like a dinner at the Waitstills", my mother always used to say. As the guests enjoyed drinks around the living area, I sat and looked at the paintings that hung up on the wall behind the grand table. My father had hung the paintings after my mother died as a source of entertainment, before them there used to lay a grand piano on the front foyer. My mother used to play to abscond from the conversation and small talk made by the businessmen and aristocrats, and my father always looked at it as a manner of entertaining the guests. So they both enjoyed those few moments of mutual agreement. 

Beneath the paintings on the table, Radella and her helping staff had brought out a feast fit for an army. Sweetmeats and stuffed turkeys of all sizes and shapes lined the middle row. Next to them jams, tarts and gravies of sweet and savory. Imported wine was in every glass, and there were servers holding copper carafes filled with the grape at every corner of the table.    

Theo tapped my shoulder, hinting at our call to go stand at the table. I looked beside me at the magistrate that had been telling me about his last visit to some brothel whore who spilt candle wax on his cock. "It was a pleasure speaking to you, sir. I enjoyed our conversation" I put on my best smile and got up, looking at Theo with a roll of my eyes and a nod towards the table. 

We stood at our usual seats at the head of the table, always leaving the front seat for our father. Finn in front of me, Theo next to me and Elle next to him. There was an empty seat for our mother that never got filled out. As the guests filled out, they stood in front of their seats waiting for our father to come out before we all sat own. I saw Birch and Cherry sit in front of me next to Finn and their parents; Dorian and Blossom soon joined them. The table started to fill as every guest lined the seats. Once Lincoln opened the garden door,  I saw my father walk with Uncle Henley who had Aunt Luella on his arm. 

My father stood behind his seat and said a word of thanks to our guests before motioning for us to sit. Once we finished our entrée's, Egerton softly opened the east wing door and in shuffled the various pets and slave-maidens of the family and the visitors. 

First walked in Blythe, my fathers fifteen year old play pet and she made her way to my fathers chair, sitting down by his knee. As more shuffled in and went to kneel at their masters feet, I saw a ruggish boy go to Finn. I frowned at the sight and waited for him to look at me so I could question him with his eyes. Except he never did, he could barely tear his eyes away from the boy who stayed kneeling. In fact, the boy looked just as enamored as Finn. I turned to Theo, hoping he knew about Finn's new pet but all I saw was the hold he had on my sister. His fingers on her neck and kissing a line down to her breast. She giggled and pushed him away, but I could see the look of contempt on her brows. 

My father always paid that no mind, because he never truly looked at Elle as his direct family. But deep inside I knew that if Elle had been a true born daughter of his, he still wouldn't care if his son fondled her. 

Then I felt the air change temperature and I knew that my kitten had entered. I didn't look to her, only waited for her to come and kneel by my side. I wanted to know her name, but knew that was not something she would give up that easily. I felt her knee touch my thigh as she bent down and knelt. Her hands pressed into her thighs and she had the position of a submissive little pet but inside I knew she was brooding. 

I turned my face to her and saw that her silver hair had been pulled up to a bun, but stray locks fell to curve around her face. They put the slaves in slightly more elegant clothing whenever there was a dinner function, but the corset she wore was strung so tight - her small breasts heaved with every breath she took.  

I reach my hand out and stroke the top of her hair, stroking my fingers through a lock before tipping her chin up at me. Her breath hitched and I felt the heavy and hot exhales on my palm. She kept looking down, not once looking at me. I smirked and left her to stay there.  

The dinner commenced and Birch kept eyeing me whenever I looked down at Kitten. He smirked and I rolled my eyes. I tried gaining Finn's attention once more but I saw that he was feeding his pet sweetmeat strips from his fingers. His pet took it willingly and licked the sugar from his fingers. I could see the clear flush of arousal on Finn's face and I never knew him to be like this. I looked at Father but he was too busy fingering Blythe's cunt to pay any attention to his sons. 

I ate, drank and kept refilling my wine glass. Once the main course was finished, Radella and her help brought out the dessert which was a stream of butter cake discs and melted cocoa.  I saw Kitten move slightly to make way for the server to place my dish down and right after I heard excessive coughing from the opposite side of the table in the middle. 

My gaze shot to Birch tapping Cherry on the back and I looked to her to make sure everything was alright. When she was composed she didn't look at me, instead she narrowed her eyes and looked straight down at the silver head that was next to me. 

Confused, I saw her drop her napkin and look under the table. A childish move but one nevertheless, when she got up from the table without a napkin in hand, I saw her paled face. A blatant look of recognition flitted through her eyelids and she swallowed and looked at me coldly. 

I shook my head not understanding. She mouthed something which I didn't quite understand until she did it the second time. 

_"The missing girl on the papers"_

My brows unknotted and I looked down at Kitten. It was her little sister that we met at the Shell, the one that seemed to get under Birch's skin. I looked back at Cherry with a heavy feeling in my chest and I mouthed back. 

_"Don't tell Birch"_

Cherry looked grave but nodded anyway. She understood, Birch wouldn't. We never had connections with our slave's families. Call it cold hearted, but it made doing business easier. I reached for my glass of wine and downed the glass. I lifted my hand and made a gesture for the server boy to come and refill it with wine. 

Once he did so, I swirled the glass and looked back at Kitten. She got more curious as the day went on, doing nothing remotely interesting or volatile as her nature when we were alone. Whatever game she was playing, she was learning how to play her cards. Making every move count. 

"You must be thirsty, Kitten" I said in a hush. 

She looked up and finally her eyes met mine. Her eyes were really that blue that I couldn't  _not_  look at them. She shook her head no and I smiled down at her menacingly. Reaching my hand to her cheek, I rubbed my thumb along her cheekbone, feeling the warmth her skin provided. 

As I cupped her jaw and pressed into her bone, forcing her mouth to open I told her "It wasn't a question." I took a sip of the wine and placing the glass on the table, I leant my head down and slowly spit the wine from my mouth into hers. Her eyes widened in shock and her throat made soft gaging sounds wanting to swallow but not letting herself. 

I saw the spark again and I removed my hand from her jaw and before I lifted my head up and returned to eat my dessert, I felt it. 

She spurted the wine out of her mouth and on my shirt, staining the front. She moved the back of her hand to her mouth to clean the spit mixed with grape and looked up at me realizing what she had done. 

An angry fever seethed through me as I looked down at the red patch that was bleeding into the middle of the linen and I clenched my fingers, before pushing my chair back and the whole table silenced at my uproar. 

_"Get up, you whore"_


	9. Cinesra | Wrists of Rope and Hope

** Chapter 8: Wrists of Rope and Hope **

I was pulled from the dining table with my hands behind my back like a prisoner. Only fitting for my whereabouts. Fear erupted in my lungs and I found myself choking on breaths. I made small whimpering sounds when a rally of more men came to help him by side. 

"Master Micah, let me help yo-" Egerton came with shackles in his hand, but he stopped him with a raise of his hand. Egerton and the rest of the men halted in their step and let him lead me through the side wing doors. 

_Micah._

The devils name rung through me like a series of shallow bullets poking holes through all my vital organs. I tried twisting my hands out of his grip, but his fingers dug into my wrist and I let out a moan in pain. I couldn't turn, I couldn't kick - all I could do was go where he pushed me. 

He seemed oddly calm for the situation, the rest of the dinner party assumed their meals like this harassment was a regular occurrence. I bit my lip to try and stop my sobs, I wanted him angry - it felt safer than this chilling sense of composition. Like he was  _waiting_ , counting the seconds before he would strike. 

It was the worst form of degradation, being treated like an animal and having to be fed from another mouth. In that moment, all I saw was red - strong enough to make me act out against him. I didn't think of the consequences and that was the first mistake of the night. 

He pushed through all the doors that blocked his way, and I looked around paying attention to where we were going. Trying to see if I could memorize the pathway for when I needed to escape, the manor was big enough for me to get lost. Micah reached one hand to my neck and I gasped at how cold his fingers felt, he dragged my back to hit his chest and he touched his lips to my ear. 

"You've ruined a very white shirt, Kitten," his breath came out ragged and if it wasn't for the intoxication of the wine, I believed him to be slightly aroused from my sudden compliance to let him lead me. "Made it bleed through and stain... and for that, It's only fair if I do the same to you"

My eyes widened when he opened a door that had stairs leading down somewhere. I turned in a force, facing him finally. I saw the tranquil look of rage in his eyes and in the way his mouth turned up. I reached my hand and placed it on his cheek hoping to find a resemblance of humanity in him, making him feel my pain. 

 _He feels your pain_ , a voice in my head spoke.  _He just doesn't sympathize because he enjoys it._

"Micah, please," my stuttering voice broke out into a sob filled with dread. "Have mercy"

At the sound of my voice and my name on his lips, his face shifted slightly. A glimmer of hope etched into my skin and I pressed on. "It was a mistake, I'm sorry" 

His face morphed back into rose-lashed cheeks and he slammed the door behind us leaving us in nothing but darkness and the flickering overhead candle light. 

"You take liberties, kitten." He stepped in front of me, causing me to step back and my footing got lost and I missed the step, falling back. "You will call me master or sir as I now own every single fiber in your worthless body." 

My body met with nothing but air as I was traveling through. I felt a raging burn hit the middle of my spine as I met with the wooden step. I screamed out in pain and my eyes fogged with the throbbing sensation. The wood dug into my back and my back scraped against it until I was falling down and further yet. 

The last thing I heard was my howls of help at the crack of something similar to bone, the last thing I felt was flesh pick me up from the floor on which I lay like a spasming cricket, the last thing I saw was the flickering of candlelight and the devils face greet mine with a twisted smile. 

* * *

I came to in fragments. I felt the same lethargic feeling from my capture except I couldn't test my voice as it was gagged with a round glass ball and strapped to my head. My eyes felt heavy and I fell under once more, not paying any attention to my bound wrists and feet. 

The second time I woke, I lasted longer. It was eerily quiet around me and I wanted to know how many days had gone by. I remembered in a speck of red what happened with the wine. I fell, I  _fell_. 

_Where was I?_

The third time was the final time and my body managed to regulate my breathing soon enough for me to realize I was in a chamber of sorts. I was tied by rope to a chair that held me in place. I was in nothing but white panties and a white tank top that I had dribbled over. My mouth parched for water, and that was my first indication that I had been unconscious for more than just a couple of days. I smelt the medicinal herb that seemed to be coming from behind me. I realized that someone had put a salve on my back where something happened from my fall. 

I trashed against my bounds and screamed against the gag, my muffling cries coming out cracked and too low for anyone to hear.  _I would die here_ , I thought.  _My death would be the cause of some spitted wine and I would die underground where no one could hear me._

I looked around and saw the many devices and suspension mechanisms surrounded me. I realized I was in a torture chamber and the tears fell harder. I wanted nothing but to go home, even to the kitchen quarters and share warm soup with Brinley at this point. 

I closed my eyes and told myself to calm down and save both my breath and my tears. Except, my eyes shot open when I heard a door slam shut and footsteps creaking down from the stairs. I held my breath and thought about pretending to be asleep. Not having enough time, my eyes met with my captor. 

Micah walked towards me slowly. Like he was analyzing the room, the temperature, the damn walls. Everything except  _me_. I tried wording out a "please" but only a muffled sound came out. He looked my way and something passed over his eyes. 

He shook his head and walked behind me, facing my back. I felt his fingers trail on my hair and lift it up to sit on my shoulders. A chill passed through me when I felt him touch my back and gooseflesh made its way across my body. I whimpered only to hear him groan. I felt him touch the middle of my back and I hissed in pain when he came in contact with an open wound. I heard him reach behind and get something opened before feeling the sting of a salve on my wound. 

_He was attending me?_

I tried rationalizing my thoughts before the sting soothed into something like relief. The pain numbed and I slumped against the chair, moaning in response. Loving the feeling of his fingers on my back as it transferred an anesthetic to stop the perpetual burning. 

 _No,_  I changed the course of my thoughts.  _I didn't like his touch, I liked the salve._

I heard him place the container back and he walked in front of me, before bending down and looking at me. He stared unabashedly, making sure he took in every line on my face before slowly trailing his gaze down to my collar, my breasts, my torso and finally the spot in between my legs. 

I tried shifting my knees so that I could cover myself, but the rope restrained any sort of movement. Micah smirked at this and returned his gaze upwards. 

"Now that you're awake, I shall move you to my room to return to your cage. This is a liberty given to you. I shall decide if you shall be fed later, for now take this as an offering. If you comply and submit to me - life will be all the better for you, kitten." His breath came out soft, contrary to the frown lines that his face had. 

I did not reply, not because the gag disabled me to. But because I had nothing to say. I hated this man in front of me more than anything on this planet, he was my undoing and I wanted to see him burn for what he's done to me. 

Micah touched the pad of his thumb to my cheek and withdrew it. I saw a tear droplet on his thumb and before I realized I was even crying - he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked in. My breathing increased as I saw his mouth wrap around the thumb. He was a  _sick_  man. 

I moved my head back in aversion to him, but also to what he did to me. He was loathsome and vile, but there was a small shred of feeling in me that followed his every move. Latching on to his actions like a parasite. He moved forward and his lips were in front of my gagged mouth. His face so close, I could see the specks of gold in his dark eyes, the small dip underneath his bottom lip. He looked down to my mouth and then back up to my widening eyes. His gaze was dropping and almost cumbersome. He moved closer and I felt his hot breath on my skin before he parted his lips and moved upward to my cheek. Not wanting any part to this, I closed my eyes and then I felt it. 

I felt him groan as his tongue came out and licked the stream of tears that lined my cheeks. He moved and did the same to the other side. Stopping to kiss my cheekbone lightly. I whimpered at the sensation. He pushed away but stayed close to my face. To my lips. 

"This will stop all the physical pain, all you have to do is swallow it." He whispered and I could feel the arousal in his strained voice. I didn't understand what he meant before he reached into his pant pocket and lifted out a singular white disc-shaped compressed tablet. I felt him reach behind me to unlock my gag with his other hand and it popped out my mouth, leaving my cheeks full and my lips wet with saliva. I swallowed, and opened my mouth looking up at him with what I aimed to be something resembling gratitude. 

He looked at my eyes and it shifted to my open mouth. I looked down and saw the clear flush of longing. I would take whatever helped stop the pain in my body, I wanted to fall back into a slumber. Sleep meant I wasn't feeling. I wasn't knowing. 

He lifted the pill and opened his mouth the same way I did. He placed the pill on the middle of his tongue and moved closer so that I understood what he meant. I closed my mouth and licked my bottom lip. My mind sang with refusal, I wouldn't take the tablet from his mouth with mine. But my body orchestrated a ringing of need for a stopper to the pain. I closed my eyes and battled the contradicting feelings. 

I opened my eyes to see the corner of his lips lift in a smile as if he knew I wasn't smart enough to take the easing tablet. But before thinking about it, knowing he would shut his mouth soon or spit the tablet out. I moved my head forward and opened my mouth, seeing him slightly surprised was enough to move me forward. I tilted my head to the side and without thinking too much, I touched my tongue with his. Letting the tablet slide down my throat as his tongue slid against mine. 

A small thread of desire shot through my body, but I removed my tongue from his and swallowed it down. Both the tablet and any sense of attraction. 


	10. Micah | Anatomy of a Knife

** Chapter 9: Anatomy of a Knife **

She hadn't eaten for six days, this would mark the seventh since she came to in the chamber. She had stayed unconscious for forty eight hours before the medication ceased the visceral pain. I had made sure a physician came to see her back while she was recovering and treated it for its fracture. She was healing, but I found myself paying more and more attention to the sounds she made and the expressions on her face. 

I knew I should probably give her something to eat. Once I put her back in my room, ridded the cage and only left her bound to my walls -  she had begged me for something to stop the ache in her stomach. Every day since, she would slip in and out of consciousness and ask me whenever she got the chance. 

_"Micah, please. I beg you. You are slowly killing me."_

She was smart. She would get it sooner or later. This was the exact thought I had making my way down the hallway to my room with a bowl of clipped meat and assorted steaming vegetables. Straight from the farmers market. I opened the room to my door and saw her shackled and laying on the cool marble floor with her hair flayed across her cheek. She wore a cream wrap that looked to be thin enough not to give her an ounce of heat had it not been to the fireplace being lit. 

She looked other worldly. From her hair to the pacific ocean that drowned her eyes every time I stared at them. I soon learnt that this attraction was nothing but physical. Deep down in my core, I knew what I wanted. I wanted her limp body on my bed twitching from my being beneath me. I wanted her bound and strapped to my cock so she could be the compliant kitten I knew her body craved, so she could drink my come like it was milk. I wanted her to give in right down to her soul. 

 _Then, and only then._ Would I have no more use of her and I could rid her from this house and give her to Crogsworth to do as he pleased. 

She woke when she heard me place the bowl of food right where her shackles permitted her from reaching. With one foot on the edge of the bowl, I looked down at her with a soft smile. 

"It's yours if you want it, kitten. All you must do is ask." 

She swallowed and looked up at me hesitantly. Trying to find the trickery in my words. Smart girl. She played my game long enough to know I never played by the rules. 

"P-Please Micah." 

I pulled the bowl back and away from her with the top of my shoe. She whimpered slightly and the sound made the heat go straight to my cock. I rubbed my lips together and looked at her expectedly, willing her to try again. To understood what I had been trying to get through to her for the past week. 

"What do you want from me?," she asked callously "I don't understand -" 

"But I think you do, pet" 

She looked up at me once more and her lips quivered with feeling of the inevitable. I tiled my head and watched as she fought her will-power. Pushing it all to the side, she looked down at the warm food and I heard her stomach rumble in response. She shook her head slightly, the tears begging to be released from her eyes. 

Finally, she stopped all movement and gazed at where my shoe lay. "Please, Master." she whispered her voice breaking at the end. "Please let me eat." 

I pushed the bowl forward with my shoe, just enough so she could eat it and she moaned at the sight of close solace. I hummed in appreciation, when I saw her lean her head down and lick up the slices of meat like an animal. I walked back towards my closet, hearing her scrape the bowl with her teeth and the grateful sighs her mouth made uncontrollably. 

I undid the laces that bound up to my chest and pulled my linen shirt off my head. I stretched my back muscles and the silence that echoed through the room made me stop and smile.  _She was watching._

I turned to the side, enough to let her see what she wanted and pulled my trousers down, leaving me in nothing but my briefs. I folded the trousers, only to throw them into the basket beside my cupboard. 

The rattle of the bowl against her tongue continued and I grinned at her ability to be resilient. I wanted... needed to see how far I could push that. 

* * *

When I returned from my bath, wearing trousers and nothing else - I saw that she had licked the bowl clean. She lay resting her head against the wall and her legs straight out in front of her. I would take the shackles off soon enough. In fact, sooner than I hoped knowing all it took was less than a week to break her first barrier. 

I walked up to her with my hands in my pockets and saw as she stirred to look up at me with hazy eyes. 

"Do you have not one merciful bone in your body,  _Master_." she asked me with venom on her tongue. "To do the foul things to those poor boys and girls?" 

I stood in front of her and motioned for her to stand up, looking into her eyes once she did. "Tell me your name." The words flew out my mouth before I could stop them. Until that moment, I didn't realize I cared enough to want to know her name.

She shook her head in defiance, and I narrowed my eyes. "The day you tell me your name, kitten.  _That_  is the day when I shall answer that question." I breathed into her, stepping closer so that her body backed into the wall. She stood with her head reaching just below my shoulder, small enough for me to throw her around however I please and lithe enough for me to carry her body after I'm done with her. 

I removed my right hand from my pocket and brought out with it a small but sharp pocket knife. I heard her gasp when she saw the blade shine under the candle light. She made no effort to move away or to retaliate, knowing what that caused her last time. 

Instead she looked up at my eyes in question. 

I would give her the truthful answer, but one I'm sure she wouldn't be too keen on hearing. "I want to know what you taste like when you bleed for me." 

Her breathing shallowed and she started shaking her head. I pulled her chin up with my left hand and made her look up at me. "Things will become much easier once you learn to trust me, kitten." 

I leaned forward and pulled on her bottom lip with my teeth and saw and she pushed back against the wall trying to get away from my touch.  I carried on, moving my mouth to her jaw, kissing and biting her wherever I went. Soon I moved to her neck and sucked the skin there, marking her for anyone to see. Opening my eyes and looking up at her, I saw that her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She was frowning but I could see the blatant war against arousal and dignity. 

I lifted the knife up to her chest, and with her eyes still closed I pulled up from the material on her breast bone to the end of the wrap. I heard a loud gasp and her head fell down to watch me. Seeing as the fabric fell into two, leaving the sides of her breasts open. I trailed my tongue down to the tops of her breasts and kissed her raised flesh. Her hands were shackled but I felt as she lifted them to my hips and to her better knowledge, she held on to my trousers. Gripped on to them to anchor her to this world. 

"Let go, Kitten" I whispered encouragingly. _Lose yourself, baby._

But her body still strung tight against mine at the sound of my voice. She was in a state of low energy, her mind not functioning like it normally would under the circumstances. The lack of food making her more docile and agreeable. Lifting the knife and holding it by the hilt, I trailed the tip down the middle of her body. Soon enough, she was making small whimpering sounds. 

I kept kissing and sucking on her skin, tasting the salt on my tongue. She reeked of arousal I knew if I removed her panties and slipped my fingers inside her cunt, she'd be dripping down her thighs for me. 

I flipped the knife around in my hand and held it from the guard and thumb rise, the blade edging closely to my palm. Dragging my left hand down the side of her body, I groaned at the curves she had in offer. As my palm met with her thigh, I heard a soft moan escape her lips and watched as she closed her eyes and held her head back pressed against the wall. The small shackled hand she had on my trousers were pulling me ever so closer and I knew I had her under lock. 

Lifting the bottom lining of her drape up, I caught a glance of her milky thighs and I wanted to feel how soft they would be rubbing against my cock. Holding back from that desire, I moved my other hand painfully slowly so that the hilt and the end rear of the knife lined up with the center of her cotton panties. I felt her shudder against me when I began rocking the edge of the knife up and down her slit. 

"Good girl, Kitten." I whispered into her skin "Purr for me, that's it" 

I was getting lost with the feeling of her body against mine. She was like a narcotic I had no control over. The attraction blooming in my chest when I felt her start to rub herself against the pommel of my knife.  I inched up and pressed it against her clit, and her body caved to the touch. Taking it no more, I moved the material of her drawers aside and slowly felt the moisture from her core coat the bottom of the weapon, lubricating it to make it slide against her easier. 

I groaned and pressed my hardness into the side of her stomach, making her feel what she did to me. 

"Beg me, Kitten. Tell me you want it." 

She shook her head in protest but her body moved to the better of her. She writhed against the wall, and I asked her once more. She moaned out a no and having no self restraint, I pushed the edge of the small hilt inside her and felt her body shake with the feeling. A loud moan escaped her lips and I moved my left hand to cover her mouth with my palm. 

Looking at her eyes as I slowly slid the hilt slightly more upwards, careful not to tear any of her inward flesh, I pulled it back out and saw her eyes widen and her cheeks redden even more than before. Small thrusts from the knife and she was coming in my arms. The feeling taking over her, as she stared at my lips in longing. 

_I wouldn't give her that. She'd have to earn that._

After her release, I slid the knife out of her and made her watch as I lifted the hilt to my mouth and licked her wetness from it. She couldn't do anything but stare as I let the bitter taste of her rub against my mouth. I swallowed and licked my lips wanting more, she tasted like a seraphic drug. 

I moved the knife up, flipping it back so I was holding the handle now and tilted her flushed neck upwards. I still pressed her into the wall and now, I put both my knees on her thighs stopping her from escaping my clutch. Slowly as she screamed against the wall, I etched the letters, M I N E beneath her collarbones. Surface level scratches that would bleed but weren't deep enough that it could do any harm. She trashed against the wall and pushed her hands against my body, trying to drive me away from her. 

I dropped the knife and did exactly what I wanted to the moment I met her. I inclined my head down and licked up every last drop of blood that her body had to offer me. Knowing full well that every last drop was  _mine_.  


	11. Cinesra | A Storm in a Teacup

** Chapter 10: A Storm in a Teacup **

My enslavement at Waitstill Manor began to be an impossible itch. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the discomfort, so much so that my body started to become accustomed to the degradation and carnal way of living.  

It had been two whole weeks of repetition in my schedule, two weeks since I was fucked by my Master's knife and two weeks since he had said or done anything to me. I stared blankly at the wall of the bath house as Brinley soaped my back. He never questioned the healing scarred letters that marked my body, and I never questioned why he never had marks or bruises on his. 

It became an unspoken routine between us. Not talking about the things we needed to, always talking about home. I still spoke about my sister, told stories about my mother and recited different ways to make butter cake. Slowly, I started disassociating further into myself. My mind never letting itself own up to what happened those two weeks ago. 

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks and I railed my thoughts away from that spark of attraction that I felt. That small inkling of desire when he kissed my neck. Instead, I told Brinley about the tea party that was being held in the courtyard in front of the Château tonight. He informed me that his Master Finn had already given him something soft to wear. 

I turned around and softly grabbed Brinley's wrist, looking at her eyes with a slight frown. "How do you it, Brin?" I whispered

He didn't need to ask, he already knew what was on my mind. He was the only saving grace I had in this hell, my anchor that home was still a possible sanctuary after my escape. 

"Make him fall in love with you," he said with a grim smile on his lips and stark sincerity in his eyes. "Make him fall so hard that he can't bear to live without you. So that it kills him when you leave. Make him  _burn_ , Cinesra." 

* * *

The clock gave away that it struck half past five. They would let us out to the courtyard soon, to join our masters. I saw Adelyn on her toes peaking out through the circular window on the door. Belly had been whispering flirty remarks casually in Lincoln's (whom I know knew to be the butler) ear. Brinley adjusted the sleeves of his silks and tapped his feet restlessly. The petite pet to the head of the house, Blythe was tapping her mouth with her fingers ensuring the berry stain sunk to color her lips. 

I observed silently, not moving an inch - wondering when everyone got so adjusted to their servitude and forced bondage. 

The gates opened and Lincoln told us to move, while Egerton forewarned us that he wanted nothing but positive remarks. I blinked, not letting the words sink and took a step forward before someone grabbed my elbow and I wrenched into a hard chest. Without turning, I heard Egerton's voice heat the back of my neck, " _Behave_. Or I'll see to it that your daily bread be sedated to earn your submission." 

A  biting chill ran up my back and I was pushed forward to the door. I swallowed back tears and moved forward. Once I moved out the doors, a canopy raised above the entrance - I felt the first true touch of sun on my skin and I let out a sigh of amenity. The gratification of my body eased my muscles and I soaked up the warmth before scanning the courtyard for my Master. 

Micah sat on a velvet chair near his brothers, sister and father. His family and company were at the front of the courtyard on a dais platform that made them above everyone on the grass. Man servants and near-naked pets at their knees issuing pleasure to all but Micah and Finn. I saw Brinley reach Finn's side and immediately blushed at the look they exchanged, feeling like I intruded on an intimate moment. I frowned seeing Finn watch as Brinley went to his lap and straddled him on the chair, with longing in both their eyes. Starting to softly move his hips on Finn's, I saw the dance that he began showing - the one they usually did at the Molly Houses. The act performed as a lover rather than a slave.  _Was this all part of Brin's performance?_

As I finally detached my eyes and looked to the side back to my Master, I saw him looking straight at me with a look of contemplation in his eyes. I flushed and looked down, walking toward him. When I reached his side, I knelt down into the practiced position. With my palms on my thighs and my legs folded underneath me. I saw him shift in his seat before returning to the conversation he was having with another man across from him. 

The tea-party assumed the rest of the evening the same way, my master no longer giving me the same attention he paid me the first dinner party. Every time I snuck a look up at him, he was engrossed in heavy discussion.  _Isn't this what I wanted?_  I thought,  _To not be forced to endure his demands_

My knees began to hurt against the wood of the platform and I shifted so I was sitting on the carpeted floor, which gave me better view of the company that constituted the table. Blythe had her arms around her master's neck and she was kissing his beard, but he was heavy in debate with another woman. One who had another girl pet rubbing her naked breasts on hers. I shifted my sight to the middle brother of Micah. Theodore was his name, him and his younger sister Elle shared an intimate relationship. Yet, he was not who her eyes sought after. When Radella, the cook servant of the manor came to replenish the middle dish with berries and seed; Elle looked at her eyes and they shared a look that was akin to the one Brinley gave to Finn. 

Remembering he was still on the table, my eyes moved to Brinley's. Only, his were closed and his cheeks were flushed a beetroot red as Finn was sucking on his neck, biting on the flesh ravenously. Master Finn looked to be in a heat too, holding Brin's hips down on his lap. A wave of arousal shot through my core when I remembered the memory of Micah's mouth on my neck and when I looked up at him, I saw that he had been trailing my eyes' as they moved around the table. 

A shot of confidence burst through my veins as I heard Brinley's earlier advice ring through my mind. I recalled what she told me and I rose from my knees to my to my feet and walked to the back of my master's chair. He turned his head in confusion and parted his lips, knowing he was going to scold me for rising without his permission - I swallowed the lump of disgust laced with arousal and lowered my lips to his ear. 

"May I, Master?" my voice came out coarser and rougher than I intended it on being. I saw him squint and realization dawned on his face. My heartbeat rose thinking he understood my plan of seduction but didn't let that stop me. I lowered my mouth, not waiting for his grant of access and touched my lips to his neck. Softly, I kissed the vein that ran up. I pressed harder wanting to feel his blood thrum against my lips and felt him groan from under me. 

I closed my eyes and let myself go. Picturing the bakery and home and salvation and Locky and freedom. The thought drove me to kiss and lick further down. Until my hands were going down his chest and I saw his member twitch in earnest underneath his pants. 

"What are you doing, Kitten?" he asked his voice slightly broken. I moaned slightly to the better of myself, hearing him call me his name for me after a fortnight of silence felt like honey down my throat. 

" _Letting go,_ " I said softly between kisses. Repeating the same words he demanded of me when he had me against the wall. Slowly pictures of home altered and transformed into images of him taking me physically. I bit down on his shoulder cap and felt the taste of his skin against my tongue.I shuddered at the thought of him being the first man to break my barrier and enter me. The idea repulsed me yet I couldn't help but feel the trickle of wet that roused in between my legs.


	12. Micah | Art Disturbs the Comfortable and Comforts the Disturbed

** Chapter 11: Art Disturbs the Comfortable and Comforts the Disturbed **

Birch reached for his long coat pocket and brought out a couple mint leaves. Watching me inquisitively he slowly placed one on his tongue, observing me like I was an ancient relic waiting to be translated. I lifted my eyebrows and watched him chomp on the mint.

"...that would be all gentlemen," the magistrate officer said to both of us. To neither of us. "Thank you for taking the time and meeting me"

I broke the stare and inclined my head towards the long-bearded old man. Putting on the best smile I could muster, I got up from my chair and brought my hand out toward him. "The pleasure was all ours, magistrate. It was wonderful discussing business with you."

"Ah well," the magistrate looked down and shook my hand. He had a sheepish look on his face as if he were debating asking me something. I looked down at his hand still shaking mine and side glanced Birch who looked just as amused as I did.

"You wouldn't... Well you wouldn't," he said before sighing "Please let Miss Cherry know that I asked after her."

My eyes widened and I heard Birch nearly choke on the leaves in his mouth before taking my hand back and nodding, "Certainly, Magistrate. I'm sure she sends her regards too."  _Her regards to your wife, and your children and the white hairs in your nostrils,_  I thought.

As both Birch and I left the office not saying a word until the moment we exited the doors, I couldn't help but laugh alongside him. We got into the carriage and I told the rider to head back to the house, but not before stopping at the Cuts Manor.

"You look different," Birch mentioned to me. "You've got a sort of glow, sweetheart. One that only happens when women get pregnant and men get their cock inside a schoolgirl's arsehole. Which one is it, Waity?"

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head at the sentences that came out of Birch Cuts' mouth. "I look the same as I did yesterday, and the year before that."

Birch shook his head slowly and reached into his pocket for more mint leaves. I could almost hear the thoughts in his head.  _You may be fooling yourself, Micah. But you can't fool me._

* * *

I poured myself another whiskey sour and stirred it behind the bar before bringing it up to my lips. The bar near the front foyer had a small gap in its design. One that had a clear view that could see straight to the kitchen if the double doors were open. I swallowed and felt the burn, I looked at the grand clock across the room. Finn would be here in another minute or so, knowing his punctuality was something that came from being apart of Nicholas Waitstill's son.

I had been watching Elle converse with Radella for the past ten minutes. They weren't doing anything spectacular, all they were doing was talking. Something so mundane, but I couldn't help feel the dash of happiness in my body seeing my sister's face light up from the activity.

That was another thing that came in the package deal of being Nicholas Waitstill's offspring. Anything that was selfish enough to make you feel happy, more times than not - it was understandably forbidden. Elle was a bastard by birth, she grew up being lesser than all of us. Yet, she held the connection to Waitstill and therefore, could not associate with that of a lesser and subordinate class.

The same thought came to me when I saw Finn walk down without his molly boy at hand. I had sensed that Finn had distinctly different preference when it came to pleasure. Never willingly accepting the tasteful selection of women that my father presented in front of us. Granted, he was never devoted to the business like my father and Theo showed off. Still and all, he felt the perfect ache of lust and its consuming appetite, but never spoke of how it inclined towards men of any kind.

"You look like Death's Baron knocked on your door and asked for a refund, you're that morbid." Finn greeted me with a light smirk.

I handed him the glass I had drank from and saw him take it but make no move to drink the liquid inside. "I saw to it that he knew he knocked on the wrong door, and showed him to yours. Must have been while you were out." The smile reached both our eyes and Finn drank the amber liquid keeping his eyes on me.

"Where's your molly boy? You've been joined at the hip since you brought him to the dinner." I asked and bit my tongue when I saw his face flush from my double edged words. A warm feeling told me to tell him to watch out. To not be stupid and remember who he is. But the smile that manifested on his face stopped any thought from escaping my teeth.

"He's in the Quarters, having his afternoon tea. What news of the company?"

Finn was nothing if not agile enough to know when something was lingering on my mind. He knew me too well. In fact, for his ripe age he seemed to know everyone too well. Never giving out how mature his mind ticked and how nimble his attention was to detail; always connecting pieces together that went overlooked by most.

"Father wants you to dignify the annual gala by showing the guests you've come of age." I said slow seeing the smile disappear from his features and something sour take it's place. Finn swallowed the rest of the whiskey and I knew it was the calm before the storm. Knowing Finn weathered  _his_  storms in his own head, keeping everything and all to himself. I stepped forward, and reached for the glass looking him in the eye.

"I shall try my best to talk him out of it, you have my word, Finn." I said. He turned his eyes away and his eyes found the slip of the kitchen door where Elle and Radella were kissing in each others arms.

He laughed under his breath, the sound laced with astringent hatred. "You and I both know that dear old dad can't be talked out of anything once his mind is set. Just like you and I both know that I will be fucking a whore's cunt in that gala. The same way I will be for the rest of my life because of him."

His fingers slipped from his grip on the glass and I saw the look of grief as he turned to walk away.

* * *

She was sleeping on the floor when I came inside. I placed the bottle of red wine on the counter top and placed my attention back on her. Her hair a windswept net on her joined hands. I got ride of any shackles and cage for the time being, but warned her that her obedience joined their dismissal. She was wearing a pale white slip and I could see the dusty rose of her nipples against the material. I licked my lips and took in her form.

She had a slender frame, I could tell she was eating more because her flesh filled out around her ribs. Her waist dipped out to her hips that looked more and more like they were made to be kissed. I found myself wanting to kiss her the more I saw her, in times like this. When her full lips were slightly parted and chapped. Making me want to grab her cheeks and lick a line of sugar from her bottom lip. When the material of her slip had shifted to show the milky sensuality of her thighs. When everything about her needed to be painted by a destitute streetside artist, because they were the only ones who knew how to color grief and pain and tenderness. Her image hung up as artistry.

I saw her eyes flutter as she woke, her body rising having been accustomed to sleeping on hard surfaces since she reached here. I waited for her to notice me standing there, not saying a word. I wanted to take the small moments before she came to me. When her eyes weren't alight with meticulous intention, when her body sang of repulsion but her breath desired contact.

She noticed me and a breath escaped her lips. The fear no longer as full-bodied as when she came here the first evening. I gave her space, not liking the carnality that she evoked in me. She swallowed, dampening her mouth and lips before sitting on the back of her thighs in servility.  _I hadn't earned her submission in any form. So why was she giving it to me so willingly?_

"Come here, kitten." I whispered into the darkening room. There was only one candle light that neared above us both, casting shadows on us. She moved to rise on her feet but I stopped her before she could adjust her body.

"Crawl to me." I saw the dread tremor through her lashes and yet, still she got on all fours. Never leaving my eyes, her palms on the floor and her knees pushing her inch by inch closer to me. When she reached my feet, her cheeks were flushed red and her breaths were coming out harsher. 

"Sh-Should I attend you, Master?" she whispered to the floor.

"No Kitten, today I shall attend  _you_."


	13. Cinesra | Wine Stain

**Chapter 12: Wine Stain**  
  
His words ricocheted through the air and I frowned to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see the contemplation on my face. I tried to find the trickery and malice that could be hidden in his words but I came up blind.   
  
"Stand," he said his voice rough with intent "Kneel beside the furnace." 

"Yes, Master" I shuddered when I heard him open a drawer in the cabinet near the exit. I couldn't see what he brought out of the compartment but heard it lay flat when he put it on the counter top.

I raised from my knees and kept my hands to my side with my face down as I made my way to the furnace. Something about the atmosphere distinctly reminded me of a lamb walking freely to its slaughter. 

Not knowing where he wanted me to be placed, I knelt down and felt the comforting wool of the carpet against my bruised knees. My bones had become acclimatized and trained to kneel now so often that the fabric brought a small moan from my lips. Placing my palms facing down on my thighs, like I had been instructed to do so ever so often, I waited. 

He came beside me and brushed the hair that fell on my back. He walked past me and bent down to light the furnace slowly.  I looked up through my lashes and saw he had a bottle of wine in one hand and a piece of rope in the other. Yet, I didn't focus on that - I focused on the flicker of the flame once it began to burn the coal. The light that it transferred into the room, seeing my captors skin turn incendiary and all I could want at that minute is to commit arson. 

Before he turned, I lowered my chin slightly and rid myself of my thoughts. For the first time since my capture, Micah dropped to his knees and even though he still towered above me, this had been the first time he met me on the ground. 

"Look at me," he said and his voice came out softer than I anticipated. I rose my head and my eyes connected with his tired ones. I saw the dark circles that circled his lower lids, the frown lines that had embedded into flesh. I swallowed and saw his half lidded eyes trail the features of my face. "Tell me your name" 

I did not speak. I made not a single movement and saw a small corner of his mouth lift up. The game we were playing was one were no player was equal. You took what you could and you never sought for permission nor acceptance. I had a strong feeling that the game would heighten today. 

He placed the wine bottle beside him and took the rope in both his hands. I lowered my head to look at the line in his hands, and he pressed two fingers to my chin and brought my gaze back to him. Understanding passed between us and I didn't take my gaze away from his. Nor did he stop staring at my eyes like they were the halcyon days during the dark ages his mind lived in. 

He moved his body closer yet not close enough for contact. I was grateful for the tender mercy of not having to endure the intoxication of his heat as well as the heat from the fire. Seeing it alight behind him made him into a god, a deity, a devil. At that moment, I didn't know the difference between what a monster could bring and what a god could. Both yielded the same power. 

Still staring intently at me, he finished twining the rope in his hands. He leant in front of me and reached for my hands. My breath hitched at the proximity we shared. His eyes dancing in front of mine as he picked my hands softly and brought them to my back. I felt the rope dance around my wrists and hands, the sting that came from the harsh body of the the rope. I kept silent, not being able to breathe in rhythm to my heart when his lips were so close. 

Looking down at them for a small instant breaking the glare. I saw how they were slightly parted and his white incisors at the corner of his lips manipulated me into thinking he was made to bite things. The silence felt more tense as the heat trickled to my skin, a flush of warmth overtaking my body as I felt the rope tighten and my wrists tied together. 

He left the rope on my hands yet his face was still in front of mine. Dangerously close, he rubbed the tip of his nose along mine and I shut my eyes at the first breach of space. Welcomed it, hated it, wanted to get rid of it, wanted to hold it closer. 

He moved away and the oxygen returned to my lungs. I moved my fingers and felt my wrists bound together tight enough for no escape, but loose enough for the blood to travel upwards. 

"Does this please you, Master?" I asked shakily. 

He did not answer at once, instead he brought the bottle of wine in front of him and tore off the sealing cap. Placing his fingers on the cork, he pushed upwards and it flew off with a  _pop_. I gasped at the sound and he took a swig straight from the bottle before swallowing and looking straight at me with wine stained lips. 

"Would you like to know, Kitten?," he breathed "Truly like to know?" 

I nodded my head and looked at him wondering what he would say next. Yet he didn't say anything. Only raised to his feet and stood in front of me with his fabric clad crotch in front of me. I looked up at him and saw as his breath hitched from the view. I frowned in confusion, "Master?" 

The wine bottle still in hand, he raised it to his lips once more. While taking a drink with one hand, he gently cupped the back of my head with the other. Turning my head to the side, he moved my cheek to his crotch. I struggled to catch my breath when I felt the heat of his erection against my cheek. I heard the liquid swish in the bottle and he slowly moved my head against his arousal. 

"You please me more than anything else I own, Kitten" his voice spiked with longing. He went to kneel back down in front of me, save for this time his body was nearly flush with mine. I brought my eyes back to look at his and noticed the tense lines of his face had smoothed out and something else took over, something that felt similar to the thrumming of desire that ran through my veins. If it took a form, it would be evil and made up of smoke. Many people thought that fire was deadly, but smoke was far more lethal. Practically transparent, made up of air it's highly flammable. Fire catching wherever it crossed. Enough so that it could suffocate or burn you no matter what route. 

My master looked behind me to where my water bowl laid in the far end of the room. It was the only thing there and I knew that it was half full, I had been drinking from it all afternoon. He rose the bottle of wine and spoke to me. "You must be thirsty, kitten." 

Immediately my first dinner serving him flashed before my eyes, my punishment and my aching bones. My breath started coming out fast and I looked down at the wine bottle in his hands, finally understanding what his intentions with it were. I had defied him then, spitting the wine back on him. Causing pain and nothing more. 

I was smarter now. 

"Yes, Master." 

It came out as a whisper of consternation. My voice breaking and shaking in those three syllables. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me pleased with my reply. I braced myself by closing my eyes, opening my mouth and offering it up to him so that he could pour the wine from his mouth. 

I never felt the tang of bitter grape touch my tongue. Instead I felt the cool liquid pour from above me and hit my face, coming down to trickle on my nose and cheeks and finally the ongoing fountain of wine from the bottle met my mouth and I gasped for breath. The wine kept pouring down on my face and onto my white slip, staining the material and causing it to stick to my body. The smell of the alcohol filled my every sense. Once I felt the the wine stop pouring, I opened my eyes, lashes sticking together and dripping with the liquor. My chest was heaving and I saw the stagnant expression on his face. One that leaked of sexual arousal. 

Before I could do anything, he moved his head down to my neck and licked a line of wine from my skin up. I couldn't help the moan depart from my mouth, shocked to hear the erotic way my voice had changed in the moment. One hand came up to grip my neck and lean it away to give his mouth more access. He groaned and I felt him pour more wine from the bottle on my neck. The cool liquid trailing down my breast bone and making its way to my center. Small pools of the red collecting at the dips of my shoulders and collarbones. 

"You taste heavenly," He held my neck and kissed the wine from me. Drinking as I did whenever a drop fell from my face to my mouth. 

I felt his fingers move to the material on my shoulders and felt them drag the white cloth down and off my shoulder caps. The slip fell and bunched around my waist, my position on the ground stopping it from further baring skin. Micah took his lips off my neck and looked at me. His lips were stained and so were parts of his fingers and cheeks, looking like he just started a feast of my body. 

"You look so divine in red, Kitten." his breath was chopped and so rough I wanted to reach out and touch his throat to feel it ring on my fingertips. I saw his eyes touch my breasts and I felt them pebble under his gaze, the small nerves begging to be given relief. Looking at me lazily, he brought his hand up with the bottle and emptied the last of its contents on my closed lips and watched it drop down to the middle of my breasts. 

The wool carpet beneath me had become a mess of red and fur, the air stuck to my windpipe and I felt every nerve on my body ignite under his penetrative gaze. 

"Ask me to taste you," he breathed as he inched closer. His head lowering so I could feel the hot breath on my nipples. "I want to hear you say it, Kitten." 

The bottle dropped from his hand and rolled away to the edge of the furnace. Both his hands reached my neck and I felt the wind escape my lungs when he squeezed enough to rid me of any air. He pushed back and my body arched, presenting my naked chest to him. I gasped against his grip and he loosened his choke enough for me to sip small quantities of air. 

"Please," I choked out asking him to stop his hold on me, but relishing in it as well. My eyes rolled to the back of my head when I felt the lack of air make me slightly uncaring of my surroundings. I moaned out loud and wanted to rub the aching flesh of my sex against the carpeted floor but stopped myself. 

"Please,  _what_? Kitten?" He seethed from his teeth and his mouth was so close to my breast. A painful need took over me and without thinking twice I all but screamed. "Please, Master. Please taste me. L-Lick me. Please please" My voice was so small if it weren't for the silence and soundlessness of the room, he wouldn't have heard me. 

Yet I knew he did, because the next instant I felt his mouth close around my right breast and I pushed against him further. Wanting to moan but not being able to find the breath with the way he was closing and opening my windpipe. His tongue trailed around the wine that had cascaded down and blanketed my skin. Biting down on my hard nipple, I felt his teeth clash against the tender flesh. 

He reached for the other breast with his hand and started rubbing around the center with the pad of his thumb. Bringing his digit up to my mouth, he pushed his thumb past my barricade of teeth and I sucked on it. Letting the feeling of his mouth encompass me, and all thoughts of safety and danger fly from my brain. I savored the taste of the wine, him and me. 


	14. Micah | A Precarious Elixir

**Chapter 13: A Precarious Elixir**  
  
The satisfaction that clung to me after having stripped some of Kitten's barriers was long lived. After she fell asleep in my arms from the physical exertion, I untied  her wrists and carried her in my arms. I placed her back in her corner of the room. The light from the furnace was beginning to die out but I could make out her features in the meager glow of light. I saw the marks that my rope had made and how it indented into her skin, I had taken off the white slip she wore and dressed her in something new from her chest of drawers that Egerton prepared that first day. 

So much had change and yet so little had changed. I held a greater reverence for her in the way she persevered against me and her body. Knowing what she desired, but only breaking at the end point. Her strength made my eyes light with something that I had never felt before. I respected this woman, no matter how lowly I thought of her situation.  

I turned around to leave the room but I stopped short when I saw the wine that had been spilt on my carpet. I stood looking at the deepening red against the stark white, and then turned back around. Lifting her from the ground, I walked to my bed and placed her on the sheets. 

* * *

The week that Blythe bled during the month was the week that my father was most on edge. Theo once told me if our father didn't have a woman's cunt for more than a fortnight, it would cause his heart to fail. 

"Crogsworth, see to it that some whores are ready for the gala next month. I want this to be the biggest one yet." he said sipping on his whiskey and looking down at the mess of his desk. He frowned at his datebook and looked up at where I stood leaning against the door frame. 

"Why haven't you left with Egerton to secure the newest batch, Micah?" His tone dipped with acrimony. 

"There isn't going to be a new batch for the next couple of months" I said looking at him and speaking slow enough that he would understand my stand on this. 

The stare he gave me as his facial expression slowly shifted into that of an angry bull caused both Crogsworth, Link and the attending parties of the meeting to excuse themselves and slowly shuffle out of the door. They were smart enough to know when it was not worth getting caught up in the crossfire of my father's wrath. 

He spoke calmly to me, like a storm that was just on the brink of being colossal. "And why is that, son?" 

I sighed and stepped inside to come closer to him. Shutting the door behind me, I walked nonchalantly in front of his table. He needed to understand my judgement on this so I planned on approaching the topic unhurriedly. "When Cherry and I attended the benefactor meeting a while ago, the counsellor advised us to hold off any upcoming raids due to the increasing amount of disappearances." 

"And when,  _pray tell_  have we ever listened to what the bloody council has said?!" his voice now boomed. He gripped the whiskey glass tight in his fist and looked at me with raw mortification. 

"When the company is in jeopardy." I say, my tone even and my eyes not once leaving his. 

I saw it before it happened. He threw the whiskey glass across the room and it shattered against the closed door. The amber liquid inside spilled like blood from the breaking point down to the floor and bled through the carpet underneath. I didn't flinch even for a second. 

My father's right eye twitched and his nostrils flared, "The company is always in jeopardy, Micah! We run a fucking illegal workshop, offering up cock and cunt by the pound. The company will never stop being in jeopardy!! Yet, we will  _never_  get caught because we will always be three steps ahead and puppeteering the public to our will. You are next in line, Micah - I will not condone this kind of foolishness!" 

"Then trust me when I say that this is the  _fourth_  step, Father. Missing posters are as frequent as the daily damn newspaper, Birch and I visited a magistrate that told us the superior law had a mole somewhere in the city after a women of the court witnessed a kidnapping in the southern avenues. The pleasure districts are getting searched by the fucking day and you better believe, fat arsed Croggie has only so much power over the minds of desperate women and men who want to go home." 

I saw the anger shift in my fathers eyes, and understanding slowly replace it. I knew exactly what to say to drive my message of authority home, "If she were alive, she would tell you the exact same and you  _know_  it." 

My father's face flattened and all emotion swept off the ridges. He nodded softly before looking at the shattered glass on the floor. He then turned to the small framed portrait that he asked an artist to paint of my mother before the fever took her. It lay on his desk everyday and never once left it. Not even while he was fucking his whore or talking about capturing others. The thought sickened me because as much as I knew he grieved her everyday and mourned her loss more than any of us. His mind was infected with keeping her alive in ways that would insult her if she knew about them. 

"Watch out for the glass on your way out." he said, but I had already turned to leave and had my hand on the door. 

* * *

I walked to the kitchen and asked Radella to give me a jar of some of the homemade honey she had brought from the farmers market. I saw the look in her eye when I sat and looked around the pantry. I had only been in this part of the kitchen a handful of times. Likewise, with the servants quarters. 

Radella disappeared behind a door leading into the cooling pantry and I looked around, watching the cooks and servants go about their work. I glanced at Radella's workspace and saw the little heart shaped leaf with a small "e" at the bottom, that looked to be etched in. When Radella approached where I was sitting, she noticed me looking at the leaf.

I turned to look at the fear in her eyes, she kept silent and looked at the ground. She passed me the honey jar with a small "Sir". She was older than me, yet she looked as innocent and naive as a young adolescent. I guess love does that to a person. 

"Be  _careful_ , Radella." I sighed before leaving the kitchen and headed up the grand staircase. 

Kitten had been looking at my books inquisitively when I entered the room, she gasped when she heard the door startle open and looked at me with wide doe eyes. She looked guilty and immediately fell to her knees, her head down. I looked at the bed where she slept on and saw that she had made it up, removing any trace of her from it. 

"S-Sorry Master" she whispered to the floor. 

I frowned, "For what?" 

She gently raised her head to look at me and glanced down to my hand where I held the honey jar. She swallowed and did not answer. I saw the slight uncertainty still in her eyes and checked to see if her wrists had healed from the earlier pressure. 

"Do you know how to read?" I asked to my surprise, moving toward where she knelt on the floor. I sat down in front of her and crossed my legs together. Her breathing increased and I reveled in the pure knowledge of what my proximity did to her. She nodded and I placed the honey jar in front of her. 

She looked at the honey jar, dubious to my intentions. I chuckled under my breath and she instantly looked up at my face, and then down to my mouth where the sound came out from. "It's honey," I spoke "Something sweet to swallow." 

Her eyes lit up and she reached for the jar, something passed her eyes when she looked down at the container. She looked up to me nervously, then she turned the lid. The smell of sweetened honeycomb filled the air between us and I heard her small stomach make a sound of want. She dipped her finger in the thick nectar and brought it to her lips. I watched as she sucked the honey from her finger and heat shot through my body. 

She closed her eyes and savored the sweetness. When she opened her eyes she tilted the jar towards me, offering in her eyes. I smirked. Only she would share a confection with her captor. I shook my head and reached for her hand where her stick and wet finger raised. I dunked that same finger in the honey and brought it up to my mouth. I licked the nectar from her finger and groaned softly at the velvet feel of the honey stick to my tongue. I trailed my tongue across her soft skin and her eyes shuttered. 

I'd swallow poison if it tasted like her. 

It went like this for a couple of minutes, both of us feeding the other honey. She kept quiet and we were nearly halfway done with the jar when I decided to ask her, "What did you do before.. out there?" 

She looked down at the ground and then back up at me, I saw the contemplation ice her eyes and I had already prepared myself for no reply. Yet, she surprised me - her voice supple "I used to work in a bakery." 

I didn't know if it was the truth, but I took her small compliance anyway. "Did you enjoy it?" I was torturing both of us yet I couldn't, didn't know how to stop the words from escaping my mouth. she looked distant but she nodded. 

"Tell me your name." I tried once more. 

She looked up and for the first time since she got to the manor, I saw a soft smile touch her lips. She shook her head and got back to dipping her own fingers in the honey and tasting it. I knew why she wouldn't give me her name, I didn't have her trust yet. But, it was more than that. 

It was the one thing she owned that I didn't. 


	15. Cinesra | Veins with Wings

** Chapter 14: Veins  ** ** w ** ** ith Wings **

The honey jar had the seal that was signature to the farmers market. The one nearest to my town that Locky and I would go to get ingredients for the bakery. I had tried not to let the surge of hope show through my features and begged my heartbeat to stay calm. I didn't even want the chance for him to hear its fastening rhythm.

Because little did he know that the small jar he gave me was more than honey. It gave off the area we were in. And wherever I was, I was close to home.  _Home!_

After washing off the honey residue on our fingers from a wash basin, he took me down and we parted ways when I told him I wished to eat in the slave quarters. I needed space away from the constant thrumming pressure that took over me whenever he was near. The way he made me question how close I was going to cut my morals inn an effort to follow through on my plan for making him fall in love with me.

I passed Egerton on my way into the slave house and kept my head down. He had a rigidity to him that reminded me of a gecko always alert, paying attention to its surroundings. Knowing exactly when to flea and when to hope no one would see him. He had a face of frustration on him now and I wondered what had caused it.

As I entered the slave house, I noticed an unnerving commotion that surrounded the kitchen entrance. It looked like people were bustling in and out, I saw the cooks hurry into the kitchen with silverware that was meant for the main dining hall for the masters and mistresses. I frowned and tried seeing past the people who were in a hush of whispers.

I slid past the masses and slipped into the dining hall, coming face to face with the object of Egerton's irritation.

Finn Waitstill was sitting drinking broth with Brinley. He sat in front of him, with his eyes fixed on his and Brin's eyes fixed on his own meal. They were both in heavy conversation and a startled shock creeped up my bloodstream as I saw him sitting in a place meant for slaves and drinking rationed soup made for slaves all to talk to a slave.

Brinley looked up from his bowl and immediately noticed me, he waved me over. I shrugged my shoulders and focused on moving my feet forward. When I got near the benched table, I chose to go to Brinley's side and sit next to him. Brinley pushed his bread roll toward me and I took it willingly. Finn had been speaking about something to do with shallow waters when he raised his head and saw me. He blinked after stopping his speech and a bright smile plastered on his mouth.

"Oh hello" he said looking like we were children in school meeting for the first time. Already friends and planning adventures. I just looked at him with a slight frown and finally understood why it was easy for Brin. Finn Waitstill was  _nothing_  like his older brother. Nothing like my master. Where he oozed kindness and charm, Micah was something you would tell your children to lock the doors against. In the two words Finn spoke to me, everything clicked into place with how it was easy for Brinley. No matter how hard his enslavement was, he got kindness rather than maliciousness. He was met with a young boy who said hello to slaves as if they were his equal. He was serving a master that sat in the slaves quarters and infuriated the Keeper if it meant he could eat with Brinley.

After the branch of silence I offered up to him, he scratched his neck nervously and bit his lip. "I'm Finn Waitstill by the way."

"Congratulations" Brinley snickered bringing a spoonful of soup to his mouth before turning to me. He could see that I wasn't about to tell his master my name so instead he shifted the topic to something I wouldn't mind conversing in. I kept quiet on the sarcastic yet warm tone Brinley spoke to his Master to, because it didn't actually seem like he was serving him. In fact, I was confused who served who in the whole relationship.

"There's been a hinderance and Belly can't join us this evening." I knew from the look on Brin's face that meant that Theo and Elle were involved. I learned over the weeks I had been there that Belly began to be quite comfortable around the manor, making friends with the cooking staff and the doorkeepers.

It seemed near everyone that had been captured was an outcast of some sort. Either no family or nothing really to go back to if they escaped, making it easier for them to adapt to their new surroundings. Belly once told me that he used to go his winters wondering if he would be able to afford rations of rice once a fortnight. So having a full meal here every day, thrice a day seemed like an okay exchange for his cock.

Except it wasn't. It never would be, not in my eyes. I started to see that I was the odd one. I had had a family, little money but enough to keep happiness. I had a lot to go back to, so it made me wonder why I had been captured. If I had been chosen, save for the impossibility of that. Because that would mean I was here for a reason and my kidnapping was purposive. And, I refused to even nurture that thought for a second.

Finn kept on talking and Brinley answered as if they were long lost soulmates. Almost like they knew each other from before Brin's abduction. A spattering of warmth filled me when I saw the little spark that caged in Finn's eyes whenever he made Brinley laugh and I smiled knowing that maybe in another life, they had a chance. Maybe in another life, so did I .

* * *

The next morning when I woke, I woke to an empty room. Micah usually left in the early rise of dawn. Never staying long enough for me to wake and see his face. I always wondered why he left so early and I reminded myself that I would venture someday into asking him. Now that I knew that I was close to home, a new swell of aspiration filled my every waking moment.

I stretched my body, grateful I didn't have the shackles on anymore. But laughed when I knelt down to lick water off my bowl from the ground.  _When did that become a thing to be thankful for?_

Once I finished, I got up and got out from the room to head for the bath houses. When I reached, I undressed and got into the small bath in the corner of the house. I poured the warm water over my naked body with a bowl and sighed at the relief it gave. Neither Brinley or Belly were in the bath house. In fact, only a handful of slaves and pets were currently bathing. Some slaves in the corner of the steam rooms where rutting against each other in groups but I knew I was never going to adapt to be that comfortable around here.

I stood on my feet and placed my legs against the rim of the bath before reaching for the razor and sliding it up my legs. Brinley had taught me how to get closer to part in between my legs without nipping myself and causing myself to bleed. That made me aware me how close I was to bleeding this month and I made a mental note reminding myself to stop by the sanitary storeroom and take some menstrual sponges and absorbing rags for when I started.

I sunk down into the bath and washed away the soap that I coated my skin with. Embarrassment flushed me when I realized I would have to empty myself in the chamber pot when I was menstruating and Master would see. I soon shook the feeling off of me because no woman should feel ashamed over something natural.

This was the line I was repeating to myself when I rose from the bath and reached out for a towel that I laid on the wooden rack nearby. A movement caught my eye from the far side of the room at the entrance that was closest to the bath I had taken. I looked to where the shift came from and a small gasp escaped my lips when I saw a retreating shadow in the doorway. I reached for the towel and wrapped it around my body with shaking hands.

_Someone had been watching me._


	16. Micah | Genetic Acid

** Chapter 15: Genetic Acid **

I had left during the early risings of the sun and headed for the workroom. I spent the whole morning drafting up plans and arrangements for the upcoming gala. The pain in my neck was a tell-tale sign that I needed to stop and take a break. 

The Waitstill Gala was something of an annual event that caused chaos between the upper class and lower class alike. The poor fighting to serve during the grandiose evening festivities be it, food and beverage, busboys, clothes threading, patisseries, or even the wine connoisseurs. The rich doing all they can to gain the selective and exclusive invitation. The selection process was one that went through filters that removed even the most unseen potential of chaos. It had to be, not everyone could gain the knowledge of the underworkings of father's company and we had to ensure that no moles or government officials that weren't on our side attended. 

The missing cases of the young boys and girls around the provinces and lower districts were slowly becoming a complication. I was going to try and convince Father to move the date further along the year. To try and keep us covered for a longer time. Yet, it just so happened that the Gala date fell rather purposefully on Finn's eighteenth birthday. My father being my father was going to use this overlap to celebrate his coming of age. 

I huffed a sigh of contempt.  _There was no possible way he was going to change date, but I had to try._

I gathered the documents that lay on my desk, and stacked them to the right before heading out. Adjusting the top of my collared white shirt, and making sure my hair wasn't a top mess - I exited the workroom and made way to my Father's office. 

I passed the entrance to the main hall and walked down to where the game room was, because opposite that was the office. On my way there, I passed the servant's quarters that conjoined to their bath houses. Father made that section of the house before he even knew he was going to use The Ivy. Originally, the slaves were to be brought here for recruitment and sterilization. After my mother's pleas, he found a new place to keep the bodies after their capture. 

I stopped short when I saw Uncle Henley slip out of the wide door from the far exit of the bath house. I frowned and detoured to walk towards where he was. He turned and had a small smirk on his face before he noticed me. I saw his body jump a little, before relaxing and grinning up at me.

"Blast a nut, son. You startled me." 

"Hello, Uncle Henley. What are you doing here? Not that your presence isn't always a gratification." I smiled up at him. I saw that he was alone. Not knowing if he left his pet at home or if Casey was with her mistress -  I didn't ask. Confused, by why he was coming out of the bath houses, I guessed he might have left Casey there to freshen up. 

He looped his arm around mine and walked me back to where I was originally going. "Nick beckons and I arrive, Micah. It's genetic." 

I laughed and walked to my father's office with him. "Something went wrong with our genes, Uncle. I wouldn't look into it..." 

"Oh I  _certainly_  would." 

* * *

When we entered my father's office, he was packing up his work and didn't even flinch when we came in. Putting his documents and assorted receipts into a leather briefcase, he stepped away from his desk and walked toward the door. 

"I have a carriage waiting, gentlemen. If you would kindly accompany me-" he said before a short laugh erupted from my Uncle's throat. 

"Leave it to you to be such a cold sod, Nicholas. Where exactly are you inviting us to?" 

The whole ordeal didn't startle nor surprise me. Being the oldest son and the next in line to take over, I was trained to pick up and follow wherever my father needed me. He often didn't even ask if it worked well with my schedule. 

_Nick beckons and I arrive, Micah.  
_

"Where the hell is that girl?! Egerton!" he called before dashing past us and out to the main foyer. "Where the hell is Blythe?" 

Both Uncle Henley and I trailed behind him and I saw Blythe dart from the gameroom to where my father stood. "Sorry, master I was attending to your son." She knelt in front of him and the air coming from her looked to be short bursts of fear. 

My father turned around and looked to my uncle before we all ventured out. "We will be going to the The Ivy. I need to decide on the batches before the Gala and since my son has so graciously put a halt to things, I need to find another route around capturing in the near future." 

A brief huff of relief came out of me and all four of us headed for the exit of the house, down the front stairs and into the carriage. Blythe made herself comfortable atop my father's lap and it was only a couple minutes before her tits were out and rubbing against the scruff of his neck. I looked away and looked at the passing streets as we made our way to the city's very own hellhole. 

The Ivy was a storehouse that my father bought in an attempt to please my mother. It worked wonders to his children, who no longer saw distress in young men and women as they were brought into the home. But it did nothing to soothe the inside of my Mother's brain. Ignorance was not something she was strong at, and I saw that the only way her sadness rid itself from her body when I was 12. I shook the thoughts off my mind and entered the vertical metal door that had to be pulled up for people to enter. 

The around-the-clock guards greeted my dad with stiff agitation and the minute we walked in, Uncle Henley took off his coat and Father opened his briefcase on the narrow table that was situated in the middle. 

My eyes caught sight of the place and took it in slowly. This was the first time my father let me accompany him. I had never been, only heard the terrors that happened within it. The name of the storehouse came from my mother. Initially, everyone just called it the storage cabinet - trying to find the irony of the situation. Soon, my mother started referring to it after the poisonous flowering plant. Which in my mind was the most ironic name it could possibly have. 

The glass container that was placed in the middle of the house reached the ceiling, with no visible entrance or exit. Knowing my father, he would be smart enough to establish every hidden and medieval technique so that the women and men that were entrapped felt even more suffocated in their hopes for escape. 

_She had been here._

The thought made me frown. The image of kitten laying cold on the floor, opening her lids to a glass encasement filled me with a short burst of anger. I shivered against the feeling and looked to where my father and uncle were sitting down. There were a few men that had joined the table whilst I was in my own thoughts and I saw that they were discussing something about the gala. 

I needed to speak now or forever hold my fucking peace. 

"Father, perhaps we should consider moving the date." 

My voice broke the tumultuous voices that were deep in conversation, and all heads turned to where I was standing. Everyone save for my father looked to be shocked in remembering that I was still present. 

"Why would I even think of doing that, Micah?" His voice gave way suspicion. He knew I had an ulterior motive, my task was to cloak it well enough for him not to understand why it was there in the first place. 

"The same reason we put a stop to business." 

"No, son.  _You_  put a stop to business. This gala will go on, it's not up for discussion. The invites will be sent out soon. Cherry has already informed the highers that the Waitstill Manor will be open once again for the annual event." my father spoke with exasperated calm, as if he already had this conversation multiple times in his head. 

I walked forward to the table and placed both palms on the varnished wood. "Gentlemen, I assume all of you like your jobs? Like keeping your wives warm and your children fed during the winter?" 

My father sat back on his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. My uncle started to snicker and looked to my father with a blatant  _Like Father, Like Son_  look of amusement. 

No one spoke. So I carried on. 

"The moment someone from the safety social council or the superior law breaches this little harlot operation we have going on, all of that will be taken away like the skin on your back when it's put upon the whipping post. Your wives will start to seek fuller lives elsewhere and your children will be left to starve. These are dark times, sirs. We must not face them with spotlights that shine out our arses." I spoke with the same authority I heard and learned from my father while I was growing up. I saw my mother's frowned face in front of me, yet like the devil I was produced on, I moved all thought of her away and carried on. 

"Move the date. Let the superior law use their little mole in the city and come out with nothing. Let the gala commence in another month or so, when business isn't on a thread that goes as thing as your cocks. It's the smarter thing to do, and while I look forward to the gala more than anything," the image of Finn fucking a pet in front of an audience intruded my mind and I nearly lost all power in my body, I pushed on. " _Move_  it." 

The few men that were at the end of the table looked to each other and then at my father, afraid. Good, fear was something I could work with. Fear was always something that I could work with. It was attached to me like the bones in my body, all I needed to do was lift my arm and the power yielded. 

Everyone began to murmur and discuss what I had just approached. Everyone except my father. He looked at me with eyes that I couldn't sort from pride or distrust. My uncle slowly started clapping from across from him and he was the first to break the onslaught of murmurs after my little pitch. 

"You got to hand it to the lad, Nicholas. He could really convince a pig, a whole farm of pigs to get down on their hind legs and eat their own tail." 

My dad broke the stare he held on me and looked towards my Uncle and then the table. 

"There is no discussion to be had, gentlemen. The Gala goes as planned. That will be the final word about it." 


	17. Cinesra | Salt and Parchment

** Chapter 16: Salt and Parchment **

I knew something was wrong when Micah stormed into his room with a frown on his face and his amber drink swishing in his crystal glass. I was sitting in the corner of the room reading a book that I took from one of his shelves. At the time, I thought he wouldn't mind - I would just ask him when he got back from whatever he had left for in the morning.

But now, fear engulfed me like drowning in the cold Atlantic. I pushed the book underneath the carpet which I sat on and slowly watched him pace his room. Putting the glass to his lips, his other hand kept fisting and uncurling like he wanted to hurt something. I moved back against the shadows and pushed myself to the wall. The wood creaked underneath me as my back placed against the wall and I held my breath hoping he didn't hear. Except, he nearly immediately turned his head to where I was sitting with my arms wrapped around my legs.

I looked down at the carpet and saw that the book was concealed underneath the fabric and let out a soft sigh of relief. I looked up at him and saw his eyes shift, like he forgot I was even here. Like he forgot I even existed. He swallowed the last bit of the amber liquid and threw the glass against the side wall near the furnace. The glass shattered and the smithereens fell across the floor like rain drops. I flinched and my body recoiled against the harsh act.

I felt tears sting my eyes and I slowly counted my breaths, hoping whatever had made him this way wouldnt be a consequence to my safety.

He stalked toward me and I felt his eyes close in on the way my body was pressed against the wall. I thought back to this morning and knew that this was a different feeling. If he had been watching me, the fear that soaked my skin wasn't one I wanted to turn away from. Like his gaze intoxicated me and I wanted him to have me anyway he wanted. To take his pain away with my skin. If he needed to let his anger out, I'd be here. I was swept away with the emotion and I pressed my nails into the palm of my hand. Feeling the piercing sensation, relishing in how sick my mind had become. How embarrassing my thoughts were. If this was the price I had to pay for my release, then so be it.

Micah walked slower once he saw my breathing increase with every step he took. Nearly where I was sitting, his foot caught on the edge of the carpet. My eyes went wide when I saw his body nearly lose its calm composure, but flew down to the ridge in the carpet that almost made him trip. Following the trace of my eyes, he looked down at the small indenture underneath the fabric. His eyes held a question as he knelt down to uncover the carpet from the floor. Revealing where I hid the book.

"M-Master, I" I stuttered when he picked up the book and looked at the cover. Feeling the spine in his hands he stood and loomed over me. I refused to look in his eyes, knowing that would be my undoing. I needed to find a way to please him. Needed him to stay calm under whatever storm his mind was in.

I crawled to where his feet stood and knelt in front of him. "I didn't... I was.. I only read it for a while, Sir. To kill the t-time" I stuttered before rubbing my cheek on the cotton clad length of his leg. I felt his eyes on me as I inched closer, hoping I could please him.

"Did you ask for permission?" he hummed above me. I shut my eyes at the sound of his deep voice. It echoed around the room and dug deep into the marrow of my bones. Calling out dangers and disparities yet still I listened with intent.

"Master, please... It's only-"

"Did you ask for  _permission_?!"

His tone raised and I knew that there was no way out of this. My shoulders sagged as I removed my cheek from his leg and looked up at him with every speck of approval. He dropped the book on the ground below him and the noise shook me to my core.

"No, Sir."

He tilted his head and looked at me like I was something to be hung from his walls. Coldness licked up my spine and I felt every hair stand on end at the way his eyes flickered from my mouth down to my neck and to the well between where my collarbones met.

"Then,  _ask_."

I scowled in confusion. Was this a trick? I never knew him to be forgiving but then I saw brief glimpses of a man that was forced to be ruthless and cold. Underneath, something softer and warm lay but never close enough for me to understand why.

"Go on, kitten. Ask me for permission."

His voice was insistent. I didn't know what was the right answer and it made my stomach drop every second of silence that went by. If I didn't reply, I could be put back downstairs in that horrid chamber, if I did and it was a foolish decision, I could be made to starve. Walking on eggshells seemed easier than the situation I was in.

"M-May I please.. read your stories, Master?" my voice betrayed the feeling I stored inside. What came out as a deliberate apologetic whisper felt like it was wrong in my heart. There was a long beat of silence and I saw him star at me passively. Like he was thinking of anything and everything else but only me at the same time.

He caught my eyes and I felt like I was in the dead of winter with nothing but the filth on my skin to keep me from the cold sting. I blinked and felt myself frown softly up to him.

_What happened to you, Micah?_

I felt like pressing him to breathe, even though he was breathing already. Whatever happened today to make him cross was nothing compared to the demons he was battling within him. In that small sliver of understanding, I undressed his brain with my stare and saw through the cold exterior to a small boy still trying to find  _something_.

"Stand up."

I obeyed almost like a reflex. My body shifted underneath me and before I knew it, I was standing up and even though he was towering above me, I never let his eyes go. I felt his hand move out and I flinched, my body reacting to potential violence before my mind could. I felt his breath hitch and he frowned slightly before finishing the journey and pushing the hair out of my eyes. Grey-silver strands had strewn across my cheek and he only wanted to curl them around my ear.

"You may read anytime you want from now on, kitten. But this time, you have done something without my permission. You have used something of mine without so much as asking. So, you must be punished."

My lips started to quiver at the word. Would I be whipped? That was the only form of punishment I knew of. That was run by the law for any rebels, criminals or outcasts. What happens to girls that read books?

"P-Please, Micah. It won't happen again. I promise -"

Before I could finish, I felt a hand wrap around my throat and I was clutching at his grip as he lead me backwards. Before I could feel the wall behind my back, I felt his body press into mine.

"Stop taking liberties" he seethed, his words clipped and broken.

I felt his hand abandon my throat and I clutched the now cold area with both my hands, gasping and swallowing as much air as I could. I saw him turn and pick up the book from the ground before inching back to kneel against his king bed post. The post itself reached high above him yet he made it look small too.

Turning the pages over, he finally looked up at me and spoke. "On your hands and knees, hold on to the bedframe if you must."

I breathed deeply and I willed myself not to cry. I was beyond that, beyond him. I shook my head in defiance softly, feeling my cheeks redden and my eyes start to burn from holding back sobs.

"Now, Kitten. Or  _trust_  me, there will something much worse in store for you."

Swallowing pleas of mercy, I stumbled toward him and knelt down. Grabbing the edge of the end of his bed. My body was slightly raised, I hung my head and felt my hair cascade down my neck. My back was on a slant and I felt his heat stare into me.

After a couple beats of nothing, I started whimpering from the thoughts. The thought of what was going to happen was a torture on its own. The mind was a vile thing when it feared being somewhere. My mind not only feared here, but feared him. I felt a noise that sounded like something ripping. I raised my head up slightly and saw my master reached forward and stuff a crumpled piece of paper in my mouth.  _It was a page off the book._

I muffled against the rough and dry feeling of ink and paper in my mouth. I wanted to spit it out but I knew that would only anger him, but I didn't have much time to think about it because that was when I heard the flea-like sound of the book whipping through the air before meeting my lower back.

* * *

I come to on top of soft sheets. My eyes have left trails down my cheek and I think I have to wake up and open the bakery before Locky and Ma wake up. I lick my lips and frown at the dry skin. My lids felt too heavy to lift just yet, but a sweet ache scorched my lower back and the front of my arse. Another pang came from my abdomen and I wonder what has happened. We can't afford any medics just now, we have to get the bakery at a better place.

As my eyes begin to open, soft dark lights greet me. The flickering from a furnace.

I don't have a furnace in my room.

I force my eyes open and see that I am not in my room at all. The thoughts come rushing back to me and I remember how he beat me with the book. I have woken up alone in his room, on his bed with the bruises to show for it.

 _He had been angry at someone else. It wasn't just the book, Cinesra._ I remind myself.

I repulsed at my own mind making up excuses for him. I looked down and saw the white sheets had small splatters of blood near my stomach.  _He left me with wounds._

I lifted the sheet that covered me and gasped at the massacre that I saw. I moved my fingers down and touched the blood that stained the sheets. This couldn't be coming from my back, except that was the only place the book met. The mental realization hit that I was menstruating. I had not found any sponges or absorbing rags in the sanitary room and I meant to ask Brinley but forgot. My heart rate increased trying to figure out how to hide the white stained sheets. The apprehension that my master might see this worried me, and new forms of torture bombarded my mind.

Before I could try and lift my body from the bed, the door to the room opened and he walked in. His dark eyes met with mine and I saw the soft attention there once more. Had he ridded all his frustration out on me? I pulled the sheets in front of me and hoped he hadn't seen the blood. His eyes shifted to the sheet and he coughed uncomfortably before walking in. It was then that I saw the small woven basket he held in one hand.

When he neared me, he placed it atop the bed. Inside were absorbing rags, with fresh underwear. Beside that were ointments and rubbing oils with a small vial that colored like what Locky made for Ma's headache pains. Micah looked down at what he brought and he reached down to give me the absorbing rag and new underwear. I held on to the cotton with my fist tight around the fabric. Simply staring at him, both of us silent. Both of us aware, so aware of the other.

Micah then pushed his sleeves up and poured some of the yellow ointment in his palm before quietly asking me to face my back towards him. Still clutching on the rag and cotton in my hand, feeling every ache from before. I slowly lifted my hands to drop the slip that I was wearing. My body physically not being able to move but I pushed through mentally and do what I do best. I obey my master and let his warm hands meet my naked torn flesh.


	18. Micah | The Ball and Chain

** Chapter 17: The Ball and Chain **

I slipped the piece of paper underneath the wooden bar and looked at the young man. He wore a mailers hat but his eyes told no lies of his true ambition. They drifted across my face and I saw his cheeks flush. Tilting my head to the side, I looked down at the paper and then back up to him. 

Startling from his gaze, he blinked a few times orientating himself. The whole ordeal would have amused me enough to introduce him to Finn, but my baby brother had his eyes set on someone already. The mailing boy swallowed and took the piece of paper, his eyes scanned the lettering on the page. Once the message got through, he looked to me and nodded once curtly. All light gone from his eyes now.

Exiting the booth, he went behind the boxes and bags of letters and documents that would make the weeks mail. He spoke to a taller grey haired man and after both looked at me, they walked out of the building from a door to the side of my viewpoint. I turned around and walked out of the booth only to meet both the man and the boy.

The wooden crate sat next to my awaiting carriage and all three of us looked at it like it was an unknown species that danced its way down from the sky.

"Won't be cheap," the older man grunted. He reached in his overall pocket and brought out a cigar and a box of matches. Lighting the end, I looked at the ember glow before seeing the smoke push from his mouth. His accent gave way to his poverty, a southside slant to the end of his words.

"I'm sure there's enough post in that box to feed your whole family cigars, sir." My lips curled down and the young boy shifted on his feet, looking at the ground and not knowing what to do with his hands.

The tone of my voice made the old man walk ahead and tap the wooden crate with the edge of his tapered boot. "Didn't mean no post,  _sir_. Meant the business. Working in em shadows ain't ever cheap. Not just regular post in ere."

It wasn't a question.

I tilted my head and looked at the ends of his beard. Burnt, from potentially fire or drink. Either way, I could tell an addict from a mile away. My house was a vipers nest full of them. A feeling of pity sank to the bottom of my stomach, realizing I would be funding this mans slow death. Yet, I couldn't find another mailing company because this one had liaisons with my father and they knew to keep the invitees and the events itself under wraps.

I reached into my coat pocket and brought out a small black pouched wrapped in leather string. The string itself could be sold for a handful of bread. I walked to the younger boy and saw him jump in his feet when I knelt down and took his hand. I felt his eyes where my hands were and could feel the heated stare of the old man on my back.

I opened his palm and placed the pouch in the middle of it. "Get it done."

* * *

It was only a couple weeks before the Waitstill Gala panned out in front of my own eyes. There was a bustling aura in the whole manor that kept the servants and masters on edge for completely different reasons. The only room that was quiet enough to get away from the noise was my mother's music room. Ironically, It usually always is. 

I looked at the chiming clock on the side of the music room and knew I should make my way down to the dining hall before Link gets issued to come collect me.

When my father called for a family dinner, it was potentially one of two immediate reasons; he had something that needed to be done or he needed to inform us of something that he's already done.

I walked down the hallway and heard the dinner plates coming in. My brothers and sister was already seated at the table, with my father at the head. They were deep in discussion when I came in and took the vacant seat they left by my father's right.

I looked down and saw Kitten already seated at the left side of my chair. She had her hands on her lap and her head facing the floor. She was wearing a pale pink wrap but I could see the bandages that lined her back through the material. She had her hair neatly atop her head in a bun but the small strands that fell in front of her flushed ears let me know this was my Kitten.

I pulled my chair in after taking a seat and reached down to tuck the strands behind her ear. She flinched with the contact but I saw her body relax at the realization that it was me. There was something different about her tonight, her body more reserved and her eyes more distant.

I looked up at the table when I heard my name. I looked to the point of origin and saw my father looking at me expectedly. Almost like the room came out of its silence, and my hearing plugged back in, I heard the tail end of the question.

"-assume you did that this morning, Micah?"

I saw Radella come out with platters of entrees and nodded. "Yes, the invites are out."

"No problem," he spoke while gesturing for the servants to start serving us. "I thought the supposed council would be reaching all the service jobs, from the urgency of your insistence that we move the date."

Like a reflex, I looked at where Finn sat. He had already been looking at me and the cold mask he usually puts on dropped for an instant and I saw the glimpse of affliction. If Father saw the ordeal, he didn't comment on it. Instead, I casually look at my plate and the dark hand that was placing shavings of something before replying.

"It turns out for the right sum of money, anything is attainable."

"You speak you didn't already know this," this voice came from the other side of the table. Elle had her eyes on the retreating kitchen staff. She turned to look at me, the same sadness in her eyes that she shared with my youngest brother.

"It's a sad reality when I get reminded of it every so often."

Like I sealed the room with silence, we ate our appetizers in silence. The occasional question from my father and the curt reply from whomever it was addressed to. Once the main course arrived, the tension in the room was palpable. The time was now. Never during the start of the dinner because that would be cumbersome. Never at dessert because anyone could leave abruptly having finished the dinner. The main course was my Father's calculated time.

_The metaphorical gun cocked._

"I've made a purposive invite list for this gala," he spoke with a certain calm. The same that came when a person jumped off a bridge. That strain that followed was thick enough to choke a stranegr to death.

I kept my eyes on my plate and forced myself to fill my fork with food. I looked down at Kitten and saw that she was paying as much attention as the rest of the table. Whatever this news was, it would affect one and all.

"As we all know, Finn is reaching of age and we must commemorate it with our benefactors and patrons," he turned his head and spoke directly to Finn. "Like Theodore and Micah's, your adulthood will be sealed and people shall call you a man grown."

Finn spoke of nothing. I could see his pet trying to console him underneath the table, but his eyes stared daggers on his plate.

But this couldn't have been the news he brought us down for. Not when it was inevitable, and we had already known about it. Formal dinners rang with intention.

_I heard the trigger move in my mind._

"But this annual gala shall  _also_  be the mark of something more," my father turned to me and every cell in my body bit cold. This made every head turn up and look. Wait for the next words. It felt like everyone in the room wanted to scream for different purposes. Everyone save for my Father. Who had his whore on his knee and the safety of not having to approach any sad realities with every sip of liquor he pulled.

His eyes set on me like the bullet on a target. "This gala shall be when our Micah meets his to be wife."

_The gun shot._


	19. Micah | A History of Ice

** Chapter 18: A History of Ice **

Silence cascaded upon the dining room. I looked down at my plate that sat upon the untouched mahogany. I heard Elle cough from her side of the table and my father carried on to a different topic. His mind was made, there was no point in arguing or venturing into negotiation. In the world I lived in, arranged marriages were the norm. In fact, I was reaching the age where I should already be thinking about children. Then my father so effortlessly pounded any semblance of hope with his hammer head.

"I'd like to be excused" my voice came out hushed. Enough so that the conversation carried on and the only person that heard me was Kitten beside my feet. I felt her fingertips touch my ankle and the sordid realization that I would be made to wed a woman that means nothing to me hit in full force.

"I'd like to be fucking excused!" I yelled out. The silence reacquainted itself and the echoes ran through the room. I looked up from my plate and saw my father's eyes set itself on me with hard lines. He had a look of fleeting anger before he composed himself.

"You will sit right there, Micah and finish this bloody dinner." his voice betrayed his composure. It came out strained and impatient. I could tell I was nearing the edge and after my outburst at The Ivy, I was already on thin ice. I could practically hear the surrounding ice crack around me, except the waters were filled with more dangers than the cold around me.

I laughed under my breath, pushed my tongue against my bottom lip and shook my head in bafflement. I pushed my chair back with such a force it fell over and Kitten scurried away on her knees. I couldn't sit there and hear my father plan out my life for me further. My whole life, I was on puppet strings and the moment I get used to the pulling weight, the strings tighten and my father reminds me my life isn't my own.

I heard him slam his knife on the table and look at me with fury flickering on his features.  _There's that first dent in the mahogany, Father_. I could see Finn and Elle jump from across the table, but Kitten sat still, with her head still facing the ground and her palms still on her thighs. The tension was thick enough to suffocate on.

"Sit your ungrateful arse back down, Micah. Or so help me God, I will make sure your life get's taken out of liberty." He didn't move from his chair, I knew he wouldnt physically stop me from leaving the room. He always had the power of his mind and fear over me, that was enough for obedience.

The fact that he thought my life had any liberties would have been funny enough for me to laugh for the first time in a long time. "God wouldn't even be able to help you, Father."

I left my chair toppled over on the floor and walked towards the exit. As I reached the door handle and pulled to take my leave, I heard the small falls of footsteps come behind me. My first thought was Finn was going to come and convince me to just have dinner. Second, Elle would plead with me to apologize to Father and just swallow whatever he forced down my throat. Or even, Theo - just to have the satisfaction of calling me an idiot.

But when I turned my head an inch, I saw Kitten. On her feet and trailing right behind me, following me wherever I planned on going.

* * *

"I want the carriage ready in a couple minutes, Link. If you even think of asking my father for permission, I'll have your head on a spike welcoming any future guests." I moved to the wooden shelf and took a random assortment of clothes down before putting them into a cotton bag. All the basic necessities and the plentiful money I had in my pouch.

I heard Link sigh and walk out to the hallway.

"Would I be accompanying you, Master?" I heard her soft voice come from the corner of my dark bedroom. I could never forget about her, not when she was in the same room as me. Not when my Father could have her killed for following me out the dining room.

I frown and see her submissive position on the floor. She had become this new creature, whom I could mold into whatever I wanted. Yet, that brimstone never left her eyes. She had purpose that constantly drove her actions, I just didn't understand what it happened to be.

"No," I answer briskly before returning my gaze back to packing. "I can't deal with your adventures in escaping tonight, I'm afraid." I breath out and felt juvenile in what I was doing. Only small infants and young women run from their homes. But, I wasn't running. I just needed the night.  _One night_  away from everything this house stood for.

"Perchance, this could be an opportunity where I can prove my loyalty to you, Master" she said. Her wrap had ridden up her knees and the milky flesh of her legs could be seen. I let out a frustrated groan before giving in. I was in no mood to argue tonight.

"Fine," I huffed. I turned and walked toward her slowly. Kneeling down, bringing her eyes to mind I let out in a tone more clipped than I anticipated "But try my patience tonight, Kitten and you'll see why death is almost easier in comparison to my methods."

I saw a shuddered breath escape her lips and it drew my eyes towards them. They looked plush enough for me to reach down and fit my cock in between them. Red enough for the stain of my release to be a stark comparison. Soft enough to bite and watch as she bled out.

She nodded her head and I reached my hand out to cup her cheek, but a rustle in the door caused me to turn back. Finn stood with his molly-boy at side carrying two cotton bags; likewise to mine in his hand.

"No." I say simply, before standing up and picking up my bag. Kitten followed me and I saw her look at Finn and his slave in confusion.

"Micah, you know what will happen if you don't plan on being smart about this. If I go with you, he'll decidedly care less."

"I'm almost certain it's quite the opposite, Finn. Take your slave-boy and leave. This doesn't concern you anymore."

I saw his face morph into one of determination and I knew I had no time for whatever he was about to vent on about. Finn was as stubborn as his second name entailed, he had a casual and less frontal way of approaching what he wanted; but he would get it nevertheless.

Before he could speak, I reached my hands out to my hair and groaned. "Fine.  _Fine_ " I seethed through my teeth, knowing Finn was one of the first people that needed a break from this place as much as I. "Let's fucking take this band of merry-men and get the hell out of here before I burst a damn vein."

All four of us trail out of my room and the stench of  _true_  liberty filled my senses. Finn and his slave trailed behind me and Kitten. I could hear Finn talking about something but chose not to pay attention. Once I reached the grand doors, I saw Link had a look of something trivial on his face.

Not taking it even for a moment, I opened the door myself. The cold night air pricked my skin and the weight of the cotton bag in my hand felt like wings. I saw the carriage and the driver waiting by the two horses. Letting all three of my company filter in to the carriage first, I turned to the carrier and pushed silver coins into his palm.

"Fourth Street Lodging Houses. Tell anyone of the company in the carriage tonight, and your balls will match the color of whatever carpet it falls on when I cut them off."

The rider nodded hurriedly and I entered the carriage.


	20. Cinesra | The Ghosts We Know

** Chapter 19: The Ghosts We Know **

I looked around and took in my surroundings. This was my first time out of the Manor. The realization dawned over me. I sighed out an uncertain breath and savored the fresh air on my skin. I swallowed down all thoughts of escape and decided I would see where we ended up before I came up with a strategy.

When we reached our destination, Micah told us to get off the carriage and follow him. After the rider rode away, Micah went toward the opposing streets and hailed another carriage. Confused, I followed him, his brother and Brinley inside the other carriage and looked at him for an explanation.

"I don't trust that he won't go to my Father for a decent enough pay," he said looking out at the casting dark of the night. Without saying anything, I looked at where Brinley lay with his head on Finn's shoulder and their bodies closer to each other than the doors of the carriage. I doubted I would ever understand why they seemed like a singular soul rather than two. Then again, perhaps Brinley was prodigious at pretending.

When we reached our true haven, we all got down from the carriage. Finn and Micah lead on, knowing almost exactly where he was going, Micah seemed less tense. Brinley and I walked behind them. I hugged my arms against the cold and saw that Brinley seemed almost immune to the cold wind of the night.

All four of us entered into a dimly lit house. Inside, oil lamps lined against the wall and there was a table with an old woman sitting behind it. She looked up when Micah opened the door, her face didn't change when she saw Micah and Finn but her eyes narrowed when Brinley and I walked in behind them.

Micah pulled out a pouch from his waist pocket and put a handful of silver coins in front of the lady.

"You're forgetting your manners, Mr. Waitstill," she spoke her voice cold yet friendly enough for me to walk forward and stand beside Micah. "For my silence?"

I saw Micah smirk and put out two more bronze coins in front of her. The lady smiled back at him and turned around, putting the coins inside a drawer. She took a set of keys from behind her and placed it on the table.

"Sorry, ma'am. We'll be needing two," Finn spoke gently "Two rooms please"

He looked at Micah from the side and then at Brinley who was rubbing his eyes from tiredness. I only hoped Finn wasn't forcing himself on him, I wouldn't know what I'd do to him if that were the case. Then again, the way Finn looked at him was nothing near to violence. The lady looked amused before putting another set of keys in front of Finn directly, and waving her hand to the back. I shifted my eyes to where she pointed and saw that double doors were on the right side, which I assumed lead to lodging rooms.

"Go on, any inappropriate noises after midnight and I'll kick yous out meself." The lady smiled even though her tone said differently. Something about her unnerved me, she seemed to be comfortable around the boys but she looked at me like I was something of a curiosity.

Micah took the other keys and then my hand. With his bag in his other hand, he lead me towards the door before the voice of the lady stopped us.

"What did you say your name was again, dove?," she asked and I realized she was speaking directly to me.

Micah looked at me from the corner of his eye expectedly. He should have given me more merit, because once I saw the look on his eyes; he cleared his throat, only not to say anything.

"I didn't" I reply curtly before nudging Micah to keep walking.

"Mean no offense, lady. It's just you look the spittin' image of a man I once knew. Thought perhaps I knew your Pa." the lady shook her head and then smiled up to me. She sat back down in her chair and went back to reading what was in front of her.

I turned back and started walking toward the double doors myself, soon after I heard Micah follow.

* * *

The room was minimal, small but I had never been more grateful to be somewhere out in town. Staying trapped in that Manor felt like a slow sort of torture. One that involved poisoning my mind.

Micah placed his bag on the double bed that lay in the middle of the room. There was one small oil lamp that sat on the bedside table and a closet adjacent to the bed. A bathroom with a bath and a basin was across the room, I walked toward it and turned the tap. Waiting for the water to clear out, I cupped my hand underneath and drank.

The situation felt surreal, there was only one window and a door that lead to the only way out. Yet the window had a lock latched on to it and the door lead to the front room which had a lady that knew both Micah and Finn. Quite personally, it seemed.

It occurred to me that Micah probably needed time away from his cruel father and the whole business he ran. I just never acknowledged that he was human enough to want to run from things like everyone else often did.

After rinsing my face and quickly running a wet towel through my hair and my body. I returned to the room to see Micah had undressed and he sat at the edge of the bed with nothing but cotton briefs on. Once he saw I was in the room, he turned and took a small pot of something that was in his hands. He motioned for me to go to the bathroom with him. I was hesitant at first, only to imagine what he would potentially do to my disobedience. I followed.

He opened the pot and I saw there was white cleansing powder within it. He dipped a brush in it and then a second before passing one to me. I took the brush and murmured a thanks before brushing my teeth with the tasteless powder.

When Micah finished, he turned towards me. Tilting my head with the brush still in my mouth, he looked down at my lips before speaking, "I do not expect you to sleep on the floor in a place like this, so you may join me on the bed tonight. Kitten, if you even try and escape-"

"I don't plan to," I cut him off "..Master"

The only alarming thought was I didn't know if I was lying or not.

When we both slipped into the bed covers, I turned to my side and faced away from Micah. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, I couldn't trust my thoughts. The room was cold and his body emitted a warm and comforting heat but I told myself I would manage on my own. I usually did.

I felt my body relax beside itself, I felt as awake as ever but my body was physically grateful for the soft mattress after having adapted to the hard floors of my master's room.

"Master?" I whispered before I could comprehend what I was doing.

"Yes, kitten" his voice seemed tired too, but I knew he lay awake the same as I. Our proximity was too close to completely unwind. I was always on edge when he was near. It was like a lit match waving at a dynamite stick, you could never know when the place would explode or not.

"Where do you go during the mornings?"

The question was met with silence at first, I turned around and saw him laying down on his side facing me. My breath hitched and I looked at his features tentatively. He was truly beautiful. If only his heart matched.

My eyes travelled to his lips and I inched myself closer to him. It felt magnetic, but he did the same and soon enough, we lay with our faces close to each other yet our bodies remained untouched. "It's the only time when there's quiet. So I take advantage of it."

I nodded and looked at him before frowning. "Your father is an absolute prick."

It was the first time I had ever sworn, but it seemed fitting with the situation. Micah looked at me with surprise, until his mouth stretched out slowly and he was grinning at me like a young boy. I swallowed a small breath, and felt my heart start to flutter out a fast heartbeat at the sight of him smiling.

Soon, conversation opened out between us. It felt almost unnatural but comfortable at the same time. We never strayed into deep waters of my past and his future. We stayed on topics that any friend would ask another friend. I almost forgot that I was his possession, a mere object in his life. However, I asked questions and sometimes he did. We both dragged out the night of freedom for as long as we could. It felt like sanctuary in a time of upcoming war and all thoughts of escape soon flew from my mind.


	21. Micah | Tame Slow Like The Sun

** Chapter 20: Tame Slow Like The Sun **

I woke to a bright light behind my lids. The sun beamed through the windows and my eyelids, heavy from no sleep woke to the days glare.

I sighed before realizing I wasn't alone. Being alone has been painted on my skin for so long, I forgot the feeling of waking up with someone else in the bed. I look down and see Kitten had curled up into me sometime during the night. Her silver hair spread across my naked lower abdomen and I felt my cock twitch at the sight. I swallowed a rough breath, not wanting to move and rouse her. I felt her little heated breaths against the loose cotton of my briefs and wanted nothing but to slip my cock in between those dusty rose lips of hers.

I looked out at the small window that let the sun in. I closed my eyes at the silence, hearing nothing but the morning birds sing their song and my Kitten breathing. It wasn't what I wanted, nor needed. But her presence became something of an quandary in my life. I was stuck in a paradox between pushing her away and pulling her close enough so that we shared the same air.

I felt her stir and the movement did nothing to help my apparent arousal. Her head pushed closer to my skin when she felt the tiredness from the last night catch up to her. The moment she realized what she was doing, her whole body went stiff. I could feel the tension radiate from her bones to mine. She lifted her head up slightly before turning to see me look directly at her. Her body jumped softly and she moved away from me, holding the blanket to her chest, as if in a state of peril.

"Morning, Kitten." I say, my voice rough and I knew I probably looked it too. My hair in a disarray and the heavy bags underneath my eyes from the nights toil.

"M-morning, master"  she answered briefly looking at me before fiddling with the loose threads of the sheet. Her cheeks flushed and as if by an electric force, I moved closer to her and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear before brushing my thumb across her cheek. The act was one of affection and my hand immediately moved away, her eyes were wide in shock and my body felt like it burned.

I coughed awkwardly, silence hanging in the air between us. She didn't try and escape. She slept the whole night, with her body close to mine and for that I was selfishly grateful. Had I been in her position, I would have tried every method of escaping. I didn't know if she was brave or stupid for staying.

I pulled the blanket away from me and stood up from the bed. Lifting my arms up and stretching, I felt the heat of her gaze on my back. My muscles rippled and ached from sleeping on the hard mattress but I knew it was worth it for a night away from my Father.

I was not naive, I knew he would have words with me when I got back to the mansion, but for now, this little pocket of tranquility felt nice.

I walked over to the bathroom and left the door open letting her know she was welcome. I turned the faucet above the bath and put my fingers underneath the running water, waited for it to turn into a decent temperature before putting a stopper to the drain.

After brushing my teeth with the powder, I heard Kitten get up and get dressed into something. Once the water had filled the bath, I turned the faucet off and pulled my boxers down to my ankles. I stepped out of them and let the heat of the water set fire to my naked skin as I sunk my whole body in. I closed my eyes and felt the steam of the water soothe my face and senses. I heard a little shriek across from me and I opened my eyes to see Kitten standing at the entrance of the bathroom with her jaw wide open.

I smirked amused before realizing she was trying to shy her eyes away from my cock. Forcing them on everything and anything but my body. Her eyes cleared and she shook her head before moving her body to leave.

"Kitten," I called

Her body stilled and I could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. I could see little droplets of moisture from the steam dot her forearms and I wanted to lick them off one by one. 

"Turn around" I say, not giving her an option.

I see her swallow before turning, her eyes closed and her forehead creased. 

"Take off your clothes."

She began shaking her head in refusal, and a small whimper fled her lips. She didn't move from her place, but she made no move to listen to my command. I slowly lifted my body from the bath and felt the water cascade down my body as I stepped out.

Her eyes opened from the noise and a timid moan slipped her lips at the sight of my naked body in front of her. Her innocence and purity trailed a pattern straight down to my length, and I let her see as my cock slowly came to life. Because she was, looking that is. Her eyes were pinned to my sex as if she were memorizing it, as if she couldn't stop. I walked toward her and when I was near enough for her to whip her eyes back up to mine, she let out a soft plea.

I shook my head, "Shhh, Kitten" I say and move my wet hands up to her shoulders where her slip dress hung. "All I'm going to do is clean you" it was nearly a whisper. Her body leant into mine every time I spoke and the powerful rush it made me feel intoxicated me.

Her eyes were stuck on mine, her throat bobbed everytime she swallowed and I groaned at the sight of her. I pushed the cotton from her shoulders and watched as the material fell down her breasts, her hips, her legs. All that was left was her white cotton underwear, and as much as I wanted to look at her completely - I needed to leave her a little bit of her self. She needed to trust me.

I let my eyes travel down her pale flesh, taking everything in unhurriedly. Her collarbones jutted out and I trailed the pad of my thumb across them, feeling gooseflesh trail everywhere I touched. Her breathing was hard and her body tense. Yet still, she made no effort to move. Made no effort to stop looking at my eyes. I travelled my thumb down to the swells of her breasts and her dark pink nipples pebbled as I moved across them. I wanted to taste her everywhere.

When my hands reached the dip of her hips, I lifted her up and she convulsed at the sudden movement. She steadied herself by wrapping her arms around my neck and I moved her legs to wrap around my waist. She was tiny enough to cover my chest, leaving the tip of my hard dick just grazing the edge of her covered arse.

"Master, w-what," she spoke into my neck. Her whole body blushing from embarrassment. "I - Please"

I don't think  _she_  even knew what she was asking. From the way her body curved into mine, I took that as an unspoken sign of her not having too much of a problem. I turned and walked towards the bath, letting her conjure up every way this could end.

I stepped into the bath and she gripped tighter on to me. I smiled besides myself. "You really are a kitten, baby" I nudged her hair with the tip of my nose and breathed in the scent of her. Getting my own fix before dipping down and bending to sink in the water. "Kittens don't like water"

I felt her whole body shake and her breasts pressed into my chest. She was hiding her face and I could feel her stopping herself from showing any sign of weakness. As the water covered us and she lay still wrapped around my body, her cotton clad pussy was directly on top of my arousal. I shut my eyes at the sensation and moved my hands down to her hips. Her skin was smooth enough to be mistaken for velvet and I could have come at just feeling her body near mine.

I pressed her hips down and the pressure made me moan into her hair. I felt her whimper slightly, and I lifted her face to meet mine. I saw her eyes were slightly red and her lips were quivering. I had never witnessed this kind of sadness before and I went to lift her off me when I felt her press herself harder onto my cock.

"Fuck," I let out a groan before looking around her face, confused by the sudden act. She pulled her lips in between her teeth and she pushed herself down creating more friction. Her thighs were around my lower waist and I could feel the wet cotton slide on my cock as she began softly rubbing.

"What are you-" I began to ask before I saw the fire light behind her eyes at my obvious disorientation. She was playing me. She was trying to make me weak. She knew her cards and thought she was winning this little game we spun between ourselves.

My eyebrows knotted and I let out a sigh of frustration before lifting my waist slightly, causing her to jump up slightly and move closer to the tip of my length. If she wanted to play this game, she needed to understand that she would never win.

With her chest close to my face, I moved my mouth down and wrapped my tongue around her hard nipple. She let out a moan unlike no other I'd heard and the sounds she made sent me into a drunk spiral. I sucked on her and bit into her flesh, feeling her push against my chest. I held strong and moved to lick the curve of her breast, looking up at head fallen back with her mouth slightly open. Her back was arched and I made it a point to then start moving my cock against the wet cotton.

Her hands soon threaded into my hair as she lost herself to the sensation of my mouth on her breasts. I frantically moved a hand to press her soft mound deeper into my mouth, letting my entire body and soul get lost at the salty taste of her.

Her silver hair was flushed with moisture and every time I rocked myself into her, water splashed from the bath on to the floor. I didn't care, I didn't care about anything except wanting her in everyway possible. I moved my mouth to kiss her collarbone and then up to her neck, sucking on the warm skin, leaving bruises where I wanted them to be.

I could feel the pressure build and the need to release was all consuming. I brushed my lips against her ear and whispered, "Look at what you do to me, Kitten"

She pressed herself harder onto the curve of my nearly painful arousal, and I moved my other hand up to her mouth, letting my thumb slip in between her lips. She moaned out loud and started writhing in frantic motions, her eyes pressed shut and her body in complete control. "Is that what you want? Hmm Kitten? You want my come all over your little cunt"

She shook her head, motioning a no. Yet her mouth kept letting deep moans that travelled from my thumb to my chest, making my lungs squeeze from the blissful knowledge that I had her. In this one moment, I fucking had her.

"Are you going to take all my milk like a good kitten?" I felt my balls tighten and my dick start to throb. The bath was nearly half full with all the frenzied movements and her grip on my hair tightened everytime I licked a line behind her ear and down her neck.

"Oh," I felt her breath out "Oh my... Yes Master - yes" I felt her rock more impatiently on my cock and the words from her mouth were the last thing I heard before I lost all control of myself and released on her cotton underwear. My cum mixed with water, mixed with lust, mixed with her. 


	22. Cinesra | Birds and Butchers

** Chapter 21: Birds and Butchers **

I looked out at the moving streetsides from the window of the carriage. Taking everything in before returning to the captive housing of Waitstill manor. My mind and body was in a state of shock and after dressing to go back, I had managed to softly disassociate from reality. It burned too bright under my eyelids and it felt like with every brush of the wind, I was being touched by him once more. 

I didn't want to think back to what happened that morning. I wanted to stay as far away from that moment as possible. I told myself it was another motion to gain his trust, another systematic attempt at making him fall in love with me. Yet, it was like Kitten and Cinesra were two different people. Where Cinesra cowered in the shadows and looked away from her captors predatory gaze, Kitten drank it in getting drunk off the feeling. 

This morning hadn't been a mere loss of control, it was a complete transfer of it. I felt my core pool at the thought of what happened. I shook the thoughts from my feeling and reverted my gaze outside. 

Entering the large gates of the manor, it felt like another seal to my enslavement. I had been juvenile for not using the short release as an opportunity to escape. I would have dealt with the consequences had I been caught, but I was smart. The  _what if_  loomed over my head like an unwanted cover. 

The carriage came to a halt infront of the entrance and Micah, Finn and Brinley made their way out. I remained inside the carriage a while longer before sighing and exiting as well. Hemlock would tell me I was being a mental case by not making a run for it now. I looked out at the slowly shutting gate and thought if I ran now, the chances of getting caught were high but nothing was impossible. I turned slightly to the entrance of the Manor and saw Micah standing on one of the steps with his head slightly tilted, looking at me. 

I took a sharp breath at his inquisitive stare, like he was waiting for my next move. Finn and Brinley had already entered the Manor and all that was left was my master and me. The irony hit my like a steam train. His hands were in his coat pockets and his hair still lay a wet mess on top of his head from the bath he... we took in the morning. It was a stance of challenge, he wanted me to run, he wanted me to prove him right. 

So I tilted my chin slightly up, knelt down and dusted invisible creases from my slip dress and made my way towards my cage. When I passed him, I felt him grab my wrist and stop me. I looked down at where his fingers touched my pulse and then up at his face which rested emotionless. 

He looked like he wanted to say something, his brows knotted and his mouth contorted to a shape of brief annoyance and confusion. I snapped my wrist away from his grip and looked at him with brief disgust, but my thighs clenched at the way he looked at my lips and the way his throat bobbed whenever he swallowed. 

I dragged my gaze away from his and walked inside the Manor like I owned the damn land it was built on. 

* * *

Micah had gone to speak to his father, and I joined Brinley at the bathhouses. Not that I needed one but I made it a point to offer to cut Brinley's hair so that I could have a moment alone with him. 

I watched the blades of the scissors meet in the middle and slice anything that came in its way. The hair fell to the ground and I dusted the back of his neck. 

"You seem more quiet than usual today," Brinley spoke into the empty steam room. He was naked but he had his chest wrapped. I never questioned why the scars on his body lined deep. I never questioned it because that's what they were - scars. If ever I were to see a fresh line, I would help as hard as I could. "What's on your mind?" 

 _It's on fire,_ I felt like replying. 

"Everything just feels surreal, like I'll wake up from this nightmare and go back to making the day's special" I answered instead. 

Brinley didn't speak. Instead he nodded and turned his body to face mine. I had gotten used to being naked in front of Brinley, he was something like a sibling to me now and every time we bathed, I shaved and loafed him and he would do the same. All except for right now, I let the material of the slip cling to my body from the steam. I didn't take it off. 

He leant forward and wrapped his arms around my body. The hug made me drop the small and nearly blunt scissors to the floor and I was in a state of astonishment. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him and let the tears that flooded my eyes spill to the floor. 

When he pulled back, he softly kissed my cheek and smiled. "Seemed like you needed it." 

I looked at his eyes for a cold minute before dropping to the floor and picking up the scissors, resuming my work. 

Once I finished, I put the scissors down and I dusted off the small bits of hair that stuck to Brin's neck and then motioned for him to go take a bath. He flushed slightly, and started shuffling on his feet before nodding. I frowned and looked at him for any sign of distress before shaking my head and making my way out.  

I was halfway to the main foyer when I realized I had left the scissors back in the steam room. I had to return them back to the kitchen before Egerton found another reason to be cautious of me. I sighed and walked back to the bathhouse building. I entered the bathhouse that Brinley and I were just in but stopped short when I heard grunts and moans echoing through the walls. 

I swallowed a tentative breath and loomed in the shadows besides the walls of the room. I turned my body slightly to the bath where Brinley had gone to and covered my mouth from gasping. I couldn't shy my eyes away from them, it was all I could do but stand and stare like a peeping tom desperate for a sense of understanding. 

Brinley was on top of Finn and moving his body up and down. Finn's brows were knotted and his hands were on Brinley's hips moving him further down on his length. Brinley had his chest unwrapped but Finn was only looking at his eyes. With his hands tangled in his masters hair, Brinley rode him like one would ride a horse. My core clenched with arousal at the sight. The water sloshed around them but they didn't have a care in the world, their only one aim was pleasing each other. 

 _Was this how me and my master looked this morning?_ The thought made me bite my lip from moaning. 

"Fuck yes, ride my cock like that Brin" Finn spoke pulling Brinleys face down near his. He licked a line down Brinley's neck and I saw Brinley convulse at the movement. "You're so perfect" 

The hushed whispers were very barely made out but I could tell that Brinley wasn't pretending. The desperate way they kissed each other and the raw form of their bodies was something completely different to what Brinely told me. This was carnal. 

I shut her eyes and turned my body back against the wall. I counted to ten before rushing to to doors to leave the bathhouse. All thoughts of the scissors ventured out of my mind and I breathed an auditory gasp of air when I was out the damp moisture of the bathhouse air and into the main building. 

There had been no one else in the bathhouse with Finn and Brinley and the only way that was possible was if Finn had told all the slaves to depart. The lithe movements of their bodies penetrated my mind once more and I couldn't help but imagine Micah pushing into me the same way. Pressing into my womb and milking my cunt to please his sex. 

I was turning into something that didn't feel like me at all. 

"Kitten?" I heard his voice call out from behind me. I thought it was my imagination playing tricks on me and I kept breathing harsh breaths out. The name was called out once more and I turned to see Master just come out of his Father's office. 

He had a tired look on his face, painting his features in deep contempt. I could see a small bruise on top of his right brow and his knuckles were scuffed. I inhaled a deep breath and straighten my body to face him. 

Every single thought from the morning purged into my head. I wanted him. Our bodies rocking into each other's like wild animals, my sex drenched for him, his voice driving me closer and closer and the ground shattering climax he brought me to. _I wanted him._

I disgusted myself. He had never done anything to help my release, he hadn't because he was my captor. I regulated my breathing and stared at him with a ferocity I had never reached before. He kept me caged, starved me, hurt me, healed me then rutted against me. I was the living embodiment of everything I never wanted to become. 

So I turn and run up the foyer, up the stairs and to his room. The moment I reached the room, cleansed of everything that happened only a night prior to the last. I knew that this house was purgatorial. The anguish that it carried was never ending and I was stuck here if I didn't pave my own escape. It fed its inhabitants a poison and made it drink the hallucinogenic honey that convinced the birds they wanted the butchers. 

I took a pillow from my Master's bed and sobbed into it. 


	23. Micah | The Red Plague

** Chapter 22: The Red Plague **

I stood frozen to the spot. I watched her figure run up the stairs and her silver hair become a blur, still I stood. Unable to move, looking at the staircase shift in front of me. Feeling the weight of the ceiling slowly lose its foundation. I was slowly coming undone and the only thing I wanted to do was make sure Kitten was fine. 

_"The marriage will happen. There is no choice, Micah and if ever you decide to pull a childish stunt like you did the night previous - I will ensure that you are left out on the cobble with nothing and no one."_

The words bounced around in the walls of my mind. They ignited every neuron and I wanted to scream that I was losing my mind.  I wasn't afraid of being alone. In fact, it was one of the only things I desired in my life. But disappearing meant leaving Finn, Theo and Elle. That was something I couldn't bear to think about. The next in lineage would be Theo and I knew that would feed everything disgusting about the business. 

I heard a door close behind me. I couldn't turn to see who it was, it was as if my feet decided this was to be the place I would stay for the rest of my years. In this fucking house, in this fucking family. Footsteps rattled against the floor and a cough sounded from in front of me. I looked up and Finn stood, sporting a white cotton shirt that was buttoned hastily and mussed hair that resembled the pouches under his eyes. 

His drunk-like stupor pulled me from my gravitational pull to the spot and I looked at him from top to bottom. He shifted on his feet and I could tell he was finding it hard to find the right words to comfort me. Yet, I didn't seek comfort - I sought after something to hurt. I wanted to see something bleed and gush and beg. I wanted to take away mercy in a world where it was a facade. It ripped through me like toxic blood, reminding me I was my father's son. Nothing more. 

"Treat the slave like the whore he is, or trust me Father will get rid of him" I say briskly, my lip curling at my own tone before pushing past Finn and making my way up the stairs. 

"Look at yourself, Micah. You're no better than him, no better than everything she hated." I heard him say from behind my back. 

I stopped mid-step and cursed underneath my breath. "It's not like I have a fucking choice, this is it, Finn. This is the final bloody year where everything I've grown to be  _becomes_  me." 

I moved straight ahead with no notion of stopping. I followed the hallway to my room and saw it opened already. 

Kitten was asleep on my bed when I walked in. I didn't have the energy to reprimand her disobedience. I wanted to scrub the filth I felt in my bones. I let the water spill in the bath, and saw as it slowly filled. 

The noise was closed enough that it didn't stir Kitten, so I undressed and stepped into the steam of the water. The heat stung my legs and rose up to my shoulders as I submerged into the water. Reaching for the soap, I scrubbed my body and dented my skin with pressure. As the water rinsed the soap off, it turned into a murky white. I reached for the straight blade and brought it to my face, sliding the metal down my chin. Once I rid myself of stubble, I cupped water in my hands and let the water clean my face. The blade slowly crept its way down to my thighs, I looked straight ahead not ceasing any movement. Not knowing what was happening only that it was. Soon enough, the water creased with a deep crimson. 

* * *

I lift her in my arms and feel the weight of her body against my chest. Her warmth infects my cool body, it would be soothing if I wasn't so numb. I walk to her spot in the corner of my room and drop her body in a heap on the cloth that lays down. 

She stirs and looks up at me with heavy lids. "Master?" 

"Shh, Kitten," I whispered and brought my fingertips to her forehead. I swept the small stray silver hair away from her skin and pushed it behind her ear. 

"What are you doing?" 

I don't know if she mean't that for me. If it was for her, if it was for whatever was building between us. Or if she meant what my brother did. 

I couldn't find the correct answer so I stuck with the one that was the only certainty.

_"I'm going to go get the house ready for the fucking Gala"_


	24. Cinesra | Pocket Full of Posies

** Chapter 23: Pocket Full of Posies **

The next couple of days passed like the wind over the ocean, steadfast with every chilling second. My enslavement at Waitstill Manor became more and more of a norm. I followed the schedule that was created for me by Egerton. Not letting my emotions and turmoil slip past the pores of my face. When in reality, I was bursting at the seams.

Micah was rarely home, he came in the late evening and left before morning brightened the tiles. It was something of a resolution to my unease, seeing him made my mind shift to places I didn't want to ever go into.

The gala was tomorrow and the whole manor was in a frenzy. Men and women were dispersed on ladders all around the main foyer, cleaning and replacing the crystal on the chandeliers. The paintings were being dusted and glossed while every wooden surface varnished. The kitchen staff were weeks into creating and cooking the menu for the night. The slaves trained on how to behave and where to place their hands. The only room none of the staff were permitted to touch was a small music room that seemed to have some vital meaning in the house.

I had emerged myself too much into Egerton's training to heed the distress that the Waitstill men seemed to surround themselves with. It had become my solace, routine and organization was something I could follow and still be in charge of myself.

I sat now in front of Brinley, drinking our luncheon soup. He had a special gooseberry dessert that Radella baked up last minute with the spare berries she had lying around. I was the only one that didn't reach to grab a cup of the creamy pastry. It reminded me too much of home. It reminded me how much I was failing at getting back.

I felt someone tap my shoulder before I turned to see Lincoln behind me holding a small piece of parchment in his hand. He looked exasperated at his presence in this room, but remained stoic until I raised my brows hinting at my silence.

"Young master Micah wishes your presence in his room." Lincoln nodded his head once before turning and strutting away from the room. I heard Brinley laughing behind me and I turned my head toward him amused.

"I place all one of my Ma's shillings on the length of the stick up his arse."

"I say 3 meters least" I replied smiling for the first time in the last couple of days. Brinley never once asked me what was troubling me. I loved him even more for it.

"Na, Cinny. You're on - I'm saying a full 10 meters. I ain't ever even counted that high in my life before but I'm willing to try when it comes to that sprig." Brinley was in full hysterics now as more and more people looked at us strangely. These were the moments where I was grateful that I had him in this house. When he was so ignorant of our situation that he seemed happy enough to be here. Happy enough for his southside accent to slip through the cracks and remind me where I'm from and where I will always go back to.

"I ought to leave," I say standing up from the table. Brinley's smile slowly dropped and I wished I could take back what I said and sit back down.

"Raise hell, Cinesra. Raise it from the damn floor up and never let him forget who the true devil is."

I looked at the worry creasing his forehead and the smile lines all but dents on the skin now. I see my sister's kindness and my mothers fury. I see myself in Brinley, but he's something more. He's all the king's horses and all the King's men. The kingdom just has to see it.

* * *

I knocked on the door before I heard a light grumbled "Enter." I took a breath in and calmed my nerves. It felt like an era had passed since we shared a bath together in the small lodging room. Everything started to feel pulled between us. I needed to keep my head straight and remember he was my captor and nothing more. He worked with a business that commerced the preying of young men and women to be put as sex slaves and forced pets. 

I repeated this in my head as I clicked the handle and pushed the wooden door open. He was standing in front of his dressing table and he looked to be adjusting a cuff on his hand. There was a silent tailor beside him measuring the length of his pants. Yet, it felt like he was the only other in the room. The breath from my lungs vanished and it felt like the walls were slowly closing in. 

He wore a fine suit, a charcoal black that set the color of his warm hair on fire. He looked at me through the mirror and my lips parted, my breaths became ragged. It was his attire for the gala, and the tailor spoke something about the hem and seam before Micah dismissed him. The tailor passed my side and my eyes drooped down to the floor. 

Kneeling to the position I was trained to do every time I saw my Master, I felt the weight of his stare set a forest fire on my body. I closed my eyes and repeated my mantra. I heard the soft falls of his steps as he neared me. 

"Rise," his voice felt like a enveloping cover after being doused in Winter for weeks. I lifted my chin, and slowly rose from my position on the floor. I looked everywhere except at him. 

"I need you to be on your best behavior tomorrow, Kitten. We will have benefactors, suppliers, sponsors and the whole lot within these walls and one small misstep will ensure you tied to the hanging post." He said

My eyes shot open and I looked at him with a deep disgust settled on my mouth. I wanted to slap him across the face for saying such a foul thing. I saw the shift in his eyes, the challenge and I knew this was his father speaking. Not him. 

"Yes, Master" 

I saw his shoulders untwine their tension and he swallowed a breath before continuing, "You will follow everything Egerton has trained you to do when and where it is necessary. W-when-" 

He stuttered, his face falling. He shook his head and looked at me with a new form of intent. "When I am to meet my to-be wife, you will rid yourself from the room." 

I looked at him and a small seed of pity pitted itself within the soil of my heart. His brows looked tired and his eyes screamed with desire for empathy. Somehow, both of us were put in cages that we wanted to escape desperately. 

"Yes, Master," this time my voice betrayed my emotions. 

My master turned and walked to his dressing table. "Master's are supposed to dress their pets accordingly for the gala, some choose this to be the opportunity to show off. You will be put to show and eyes will be on you at all times, Kitten." He picked up something from the table that was inside a wooden box. 

He faced me with his head tilted slightly, "I don't want anyone but me to be able to look at you, but I want to look at you knowing you're mine." 

My thighs ached to clench the soft throb that was starting in my core. I looked at him with force, trying to keep my breaths steady and my chest quiet. He walked to his bed and placed the wooden box on the sheets before softly speaking "Undress." 

I couldn't stop the worry flooding into my brain, my skin buzzed with anticipation. I needed to obey, I couldn't afford another punishment. It would be something of a humiliating to face the guests tomorrow with bruises and red marks lashed on my skin. I stepped out of my white slip, my usual attire for the house. I was already given what I would wear tomorrow, so I looked at him with a sense of confusion. 

I wrapped my arms around my body and shielded my breasts from the cool air of the room and his gaze. I was wearing cotton underwear that resembled the one from the lodging house, my cheeks flushed with the thoughts. 

Micah walked closer to me and unfolded my arms from my chest. He looked down at my eyes as he did so, I looked at his brown irises and wanted to come closer to his heat. He had undone the top button of his white laced shirt sometime between my arrival and the peak of skin underneath begged to be touched. 

But I kept my arms to my sides where he placed them and stood in front of him, letting him feast on my body. He moved his sight downwards, letting his vision kiss every part of me. I felt him kneel down and kiss the side of breast. I took a sharp breath in and shut my eyes at the warmth of his tongue. 

His mouth moved to kiss my nipple, before he sucked the small nub in. I felt his tongue circle the edge, and I bit my lip from moaning out. I told myself to repeat the mantra in my head, but it had gotten lost in the recesses of my mind somewhere. 

"So beautiful," I heard him whisper into me. It sounded like he was saying it to himself more than anything. He retracted his mouth from my breast and looked at me with his lips wet and his eyelids heavy from arousal. 

I felt his fingertips drag down my elbow and to my palms, before he took my hand in his and walked me toward the edge of the room. The sectioned off part of the room held his bath and sink. There was a small wooden stool near the bottom sink of water filled. Near it, there was a blade and a liquid in a bottle. 

I immediately felt my body tense and I looked at him with sudden panic. "Shh, Kitten. No one is going to hurt you" 

I wanted to scream and tell him that he was hurting me. He's constantly hurting me, and I didn't know why I became a magnet to it. Letting the toxicity kill me from the inside out. I felt the wetness seep from my sex. It was  _wrong_. 

He placed me on the stool and tilted my chin up to look at him. "I'm going to completely undress you." He wasn't asking. 

"Master, please. I don't want to - I've never-" I began, my voice tinged with hysteria. 

I felt his thumb rub against my bottom lip silencing my words, before it slipped into my mouth. His skin was warm against my tongue and I saw as he watched the movement of my throat as I swallowed. 

"Suck," he sounded breathless. His desires were sick and I frowned at his apparent arousal.  At  _mine_. I closed my mouth around his thumb, let my teeth graze the top of his nail. I sucked his thumb and felt my cheeks hollow at the vacuum. He groaned and cursed under his breath before I felt his other hand touch the top waistline of my underwear. 

"Just like that, Kitten. So good." His eyes were on my eyes as I pulled at his thumb with my mouth. He lifted his thumb up, making my body rise and he used this opportunity to slip my underwear down from my hips. I opened my mouth to protest, but he switched his thumb out and thrust his index and middle finger into my mouth instead. I felt his wet thumb grip onto my jaw as I sucked the two fingers. He pressed down onto my tongue and I moaned at the pressure. 

He neared my face with his, letting his breaths fall on his hand where my mouth was tonguing his fingers. He licked his lips and spoke deep, his words shooting straight to the center of my legs. "You want it.  _Fuck_ , you want it as much as I do, filthy Kitten. My dirty little pet." 

He moved his fingers in my mouth to forcefully make me nod. He forced my legs apart with his other hand and the cool air blew against my wet heat. I pressed my knees together to shield myself. "Please," I mumbled against his fingers, in between every suck and pull. Not wanting to disappoint him. 

He slipped his fingers out and placed them on my other thigh. I forced my legs apart but he kept them open and moved his glare down at the center of my legs. I shut my eyes from embarrassment, feeling the tears sting the edges. No one had ever seen me this closely, no one ever had me this vulnerable. It was humiliating and mortifying, but I couldn't stop the slow throb of my core. 

"Look at you, Kitten," He said as he reached down and trailed his fingers through the small curls of my pubic hair. He bent down to his knees and faced my sex even closer. He leant forward and kissed the flesh of my inner thigh. My body racked from the sensation, my eyes shot open and I looked down at him. 

"Master, I don't want... I'm begging you-" 

"Then  _beg_." he replied looking up at me through his lashes. The sight knocked the wind out of me, he was so beautiful. There was something depraved and chemically imbalanced in my mind to think my captor was breathtaking. But he was, every time he looked at me - he took my breath away. 

I shook my head, but he moved away from my sex. He reached around the wooden stool for the bottom sink of water. he moved the basin closer to him and I saw the vialed liquid along with the razor come closely after. I frowned, he said he wouldnt hurt me.  _Did I trust him?_

He dunked a small white cloth into the basin of water and submerged the fabric before lifting it up and covering my sex with it. He wet the hair down there and I could feel the heat redden my entire body. My master was cleaning me in a suit more expensive than anyone in the entire country, with his breaths touching the lips of my sex. He put the cloth back in the basin before opening the small vial of transparent liquid. 

He poured the liquid over my sex. My breathing not once stopping its horserace. the liquid began to foam and lather. He brought the razor up and I pushed myself back with sudden distress.

"What are you-," I began and he brought my body back onto the stool. His brows frowned in amusement and I wanted to kick him in the face for thinking anything about this was entertaining. 

"I'm shaving you, Kitten. The blade will not penetrate skin" his eyes looked sincere and his mouth smiled at my innocence. "I promise." 

I swallowed and felt the small butterflies in my stomach make their way up to my throat and suffocate any sense of speaking. I nodded and let him draw his gaze back to where he wanted it to be. He smoothed the foam over my sex and I felt him slowly start to slide the blade down my skin from one side. It wasn't painful, it was new and I closed my eyes at the humiliation. I could see his arousal at my embarrassment.

Once he finished cleaning the blade and leaving me bare. He washed me with the wet cloth before moving the basin sink to one side. He moved upwards and he moved me to the edge of the stool. My naked body against his completely clothed one. I looked up at him with a look of hatred mixed with lust, something I couldn't stop. This image of us was the most erotic I've ever understood. He held all the power, everything could start or stop because he wanted it to. I was a mere pet, subject to his every desire. 

He leant down to my ear. I felt him breath in the scent of me through my hair, before kissing the edge of my ear. I whimpered at the pressure of his hands on the cusp of my arse. He pulled me toward him and my newly bare and sensitive pussy rubbed against the fabric of his pants. The pressure eased the ache and I felt him move my body to create friction against his encased arousal. The wetness from my arousal stained the black on the crotch of his pants, I moaned seeing the outline of him. 

"I want you, Kitten. Tell me you want me to," his voice sounded like he was in pain. I drew my hands up to intertwine in his arms and hold his back to mine. I didn't want him to be in pain. It hurt me then, like a needle piercing a vein of my heart. 

"You, Master. I want you." I spoke. It came forced and robotically but I heard him moan into my ear anyway. I pressed my body harder into his arousal, letting every drop of my wetness rub against the fabric. It stung since my skin wasn't accustomed to being this bare, but I let it. 

"That's it, Kitten. Mark me with your pussy, I want your smell and your fuck on me." 

His words always ignited something carnal inside me. Something that makes me forget where I am or who I'm with. Like we are two beings running towards or away from something and it doesn't matter, as long as we reach together. He hurts as much as I do, and it was sick and revolting that I both hated and lusted after my Master.  

Just as I felt a knot start to build in my core, he moved away from me. I whimpered at the loss of contact and heat, which sparked something in his eyes. He closed them and went back into the mainframe of the room. I stayed glued to the spot on the stool, not knowing what to do without instruction. 

I felt dazed and drunk. I shook my thoughts and ran my hands down my face, feeling like I wanted to cry. When I heard his footsteps coming back, I placed my hands down and looked up hoping he would return. 

Micah walked in with the wooden box in his hand and he placed it on my bare thighs before looking up at me with a dark shadow looming over his face.

I saw his fingers trail the edges of the box before he opened it and I gasped. 


	25. Micah | The Ides of March

** Chapter 24: The Ides of March **

I saw her eyes come alive as I put the lid of the wooden box on the tiled ground. The bath space felt like it was closing in until my breath pressed against hers. Yet, she was sitting in front of me.

I saw her swallow and look around the box with eyes on fire. She looked up at me with a questioning look, "M-master? I don't understand"

Lifting the box in my hand, I carried it with one hand and held hers in the other. Staying silent, I walked her back to the main room with her naked form trailing behind me as I walked completely clothed. It was a sense of power I never thought would be exhilarating. I placed the box on the bed and nodded my head at the sheets for her to do the same.

Kitten sat down at the edge and I lightly tucked a stray hair away from the curve of her face. I towered over her and she never once left my eyesight. "This, Kitten" I finally say, "is so that every body in the country know your cunt belongs to me."

I saw her breathing deepen and I reached inside the box, pulling out the first object.

I presented a set of kitten ears to her in the palms of my hands. "These are your kittens ears." I leant forward and clipped them onto the sides of her head so that she had them evenly placed. The ears had silver fur around them that matched the color of her hair, almost blending to the edge. The soft fur on the inside was a pale pink that reminded me so much of her pussy. I licked my lips at the desire spreading through my body.

I moved my hands away from her head and picked up the second object.

I brought the purple liquid vial in between us and unscrewed the cork. "You need to drink this everyday from tonight onwards. You will be given it the same time after your supper."

I tipped the glass near her lips but felt the strong purse stop anything from leaving the bottle. "What will it do to me?" She asked, with fear alight on her face. Her eyes darted across from mine and begged in desperation.

I licked my lips and lowered my eyes. "It is a precaution, a newly invented solution that will stop you from... that will temporarily cease your chances of giving birth."

I saw the understanding flood in her face. She looked down at her palms and the ears flicked with her movement. I saw her lip quiver and she bit her lip with contempt. I tilted my head to the side and reached forward wanting to console her, before she grabbed the vial from my fingers and swallowed the liquid in one sip. The determination that swept over her was something born from red. Something angry, something that I wanted beside me at all times but didn't know why.

I threaded my fingers through her silken hair. Letting her sadness transfer on to me, letting her know that it would be okay as long as I was with her. She looked up at me with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher.

So, I pulled away from her gaze and picked up the last object in the box.

"This is a tail," I held up the plugging device in my hand. Made from the same silver fur to match her hair, the tail suited everything about her. "I want you to turn around." I looked at her then, with her kitten ears and cheeks flushed, her cunt bare and her lips bruised from biting. She looked like something made to be devoured, something I needed to feast on and quench my thirst for.

"Master, how is it meant to stay on me?" she asked curiously, her nervousness peaking now. Her brows beginning to sweat and her body showing soft shakes. I lifted her chin up with my thumb and index finger, forcing her to look up at me.

"It isn't," I said. I moved the end of the tail that has a silver metal plug attached to it across her lips. I trailed the cool phallic metal across her plump lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth. I saw her eyes widen and her throat open out, the plug slipping into her mouth. I saw the edges of her eyes start to water and a groan escaped me. "It's not meant to stay on you, Kitten. It's meant to stay inside you."

I felt her choke on the plug and she began coughing the metal end out. I let it slip out of her mouth and lift her from her knees, turning her upside down. Her arse perked in the air and her face fallen on the mattress, I wanted to taste every inch of her.

"You're so beautiful, Kitten. Say it."

"Master, it won't fit. Please, I've never - It will hurt me. Please don't hurt me" I heard her small muffled cries against the mattress. I held her back down on the bed and pulled both her hands into my grasp. Her body was constricted and she couldn't move an inch.

_"Say it."_

I heard her sobs, the small whimpers she made and all it made me want was to push inside her wet heat and feel her walls swallow my cock. I heard her muffled voice come, "I'm beautiful."

"You really are," I muster memorizing every centimeter of skin that covered her anatomy. I saw her move her head to the side and take a deep breath, "Master please. I haven't yet been entered."

"This isn't going into your cunt, Kitten. I promise, the first thing that'll break you there will be my cock. Nothing else"

Her cries cracked and her body squirmed from my grip. I saw her pussy glisten with arousal and her back arch, knowing she was easing the ache of her nipples. I moved the metal tip around the pucker of her arsehole. Seeing it bloom from the cold, I gently pressed the tip into her. Letting her spit lubricate the surrounding skin. This would hurt her, but she would feel the ache all through tomorrow, when she presses it into herself again in time for the gala.

"You are to behave and be everything I ask of you." I speak, letting my voice ricochet around her as I circle the small plug around her hole. Letting it slowly dip in and out in slow anticipation. I saw as the silver fur touching the back of her thighs made her clench them together. I wanted to see her push back, I wanted to see her  _want_  this.

"You are to please me and anyone else that wants to watch. However, you are mine and mine alone, if I see you in a questionable position with any other fucker out there, I will have you rung up the clothes line with you arms behind your head."

I felt her body slowly linger back against my movements. It was almost like I could sense her desire to be filled to the brim. In time, she would see what it feels like to be filled both ways. The thought made me press my arousal into the back of her thigh. I shamelessly and slowly rubbed my pant-covered length against the soft skin. "Most of all, Kitten. If I see you trying to escape. Know and understand-"

Before I finished the sentence, she pressed back and the metal plug filled her arse - disappearing into her. All that was left was the fur trail of a silver tail, matching her ears and her hair. Kitten moaned against the sheets and I could feel my release near but I stopped and watched her body react. I watched as she bit into the sheets I slept on, and her hands fisted the cloth. I saw the tail lightly sway back and forth with her creamy body on display.


	26. Cinesra | The Garden of Eden

** Chapter 25: The Garden of Eden **

I had been awake for time enough to know that he had dressed and left the room. I woke from the small sounds of his dressing table, the click of his cuffs and the small chaotic movements.

The first tear that fell down my cheek made like the first leaf of Autumn. After that, it was as easy as the season. I had fallen asleep on his bed, the soft cotton was dichotomous to the man that I watched. For every tear that fell, I lost a little more of myself to him too.

When he left the room, I turned and saw the box with my  _gifted_  objects, atop the bedside table. He had removed the objects from inside me and on me while I was sleeping. The realization hit that I would have to replicate what he did to me before tonight. My lip quivered and I let myself wallow in my homesickness. It was as if a grotesque monster started eating my limbs whenever I was with him, and a different person surfaced. Lust was sinful and I was smart enough to know that the purple vial I would take everyday is a sign from him. A sign that he would soon be taking my virtue.

I felt my tears pool on the white pillow case, I curled into myself. I let my forehead touch my knees and I sobbed into my skin in fear that he would see the tear stains and I would be put in another unfathomable position.

My master made me feel things. This was certain. He consumed me and made my core clench with the rough tone of his voice. I wasn't crying for him. I was crying for me. For every part of myself I couldn't ever return to.

So I uncurled from the fetal position I was in, rubbed my wet cheeks, got up from his bed and put on a white slip dress. I left Pandora's box where it was, and walked down to the Slave's Quarters for breakfast. Tonight would be my undoing, but this morning was the calm I was given through some mercy.

When I reached the dining hall Brin was sitting with his Master Finn.It wasn't shocking, I grew more and more comfortable with the Waitstill's as the days went on. All save for the middle son Theodore and the Father. If Hemlock could see them, she'd tell me that they grew from the wrong seeds.

"Good morning," I greeted as I sat down with a bowl of porridge and a butter roll. The table had various different jams that I was sure was only available because of Finn's presence.

"Morning" Finn said laying down a spoon for me. "Hope you had a decent sleep"

The irony was palpable. I smiled softly before I drank my porridge and Brinley started talking about the Gala. I knew now that his loyalty to his master was born from a place of love.

"They're comin' in masks. Radella told me some of em' wear the heads of carcassed animals. Fucking bastards" Brinley muttered chomping down on a breadstick.

"I've never been accustomed to them" Finn spoke to the table.

I looked up at Finn then, he seemed a different kind of sad. One that didn't have a precise definition. A sad that reminded me of fruits left to brown and rot in a house full of hungry children.

Tonight, Finn was the main event. Everyone that was coming knew it was in celebration of his eighteenth name day. Finn would have to showcase his adulthood publicly, the consummation of which will dictate his superiority. It was a vile act, something I knew would hurt Brinley deeply from the emotion I saw between them. The only aspect that got me to trust Finn was the fact that it looked to be as crushing to him as his slave.

Brinley moved forward and kissed Finn in the corner of his ear, moving up to his earlobe. I saw Finn blush from the show of intimacy. It never felt like Micah and I could be the same. Purity had a color and it wasn't one that we were associated with.

"What would happen to me after Micah's engagement? " I spoke after a while. The thought that had me bursting at the seams ever since I knew the news. Finn opened his mouth to speak but stopped short when his eyes trailed something behind me. His mouth closed as I saw Belly and Aderyn come and sit beside me and Brin.

I turned to Belly across from me and saw the constellation of bruises that lined down his neck. Aderyn sat quietly next to me, putting jam on her breadroll - a delicacy within our slavery.

"What happened to your neck, Bel?" I asked cautiously looking at Finn and then to him. I knew Finn wouldn't answer my question in front of other slaves, he had a kind heart that came to prove it during times like these.

Beldon's cheeks flamed and he reached for the orange marmalade before cutting his roll. I would leave before more people realized there was jam at our table, but I needed to make sure that he wasn't being punished like I was. A surge of rage coursed through my blood yet, selfishly it was laced with hope. Hope that perhaps, I wasn't the only one falling down a dangerous rabbit hole.

"My Master.... he likes watching my Mistress bite and suck on my skin. He likes to watch..." Beldon ripped the breadroll with his hands and placed a chunk in his mouth. Not looking any of us in the eye.

I heard Aderyn cough, the silence raining down on us. It was the unspoken crack that ripped through the house but none were to voice it. Brinkley shifted in his seat and Finn idly played with the butterknife on the table. Elle Pearson and Theodore Waitstill were the secrets that the walls never conversed about. Both siblings, sharing the same mother yet I would watch as he would kiss her, lick her, all acts mean't for a lover. Not a sister, no matter what the genetic makeup was.

"All's done for tonight," Brinley coughed and broke the silence. "Egerton is most likely fucking 'imself with all them slaves that would be sold tonight..." 


	27. Cinesra | Curiosity Killed The Kitten

** Chapter 26: Curiosity Killed The Kitten **

Nightfall sets on the manor like a deep blue plague, covering the windows and painting the entrances with the lively buzz of people. They came in groups mostly, some wearing masks made of glitter and gold and some wearing lionheads and the beaks of crows scattered along the bridge of their nose. The waitresses walked around with glass platters serving colorful drinks. They wore black slips that showed through to the skin underneath and the waiters tended in a hip wrap of the same material.

The mansion oozed with sexual desire and sin, with pets and slaves loitering around every corner performing unheard acts. Some were atop the island tables, dancing to the classical piano with their hands on their cocks, inside their cunnies, around other people. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before and my eyes remained transfixed to everybody.

The secondary caterers and waiting companies were organizing themselves in the Slaves Quarters but under strict conditioning of Egerton, no one was to step foot in the Quarters tonight. Brinley had told me that the Slave Quarter gates were left completely open so that the companies could dock their carriages and the overstaying guests could leave their boxes and suitcases. He didn't have to tell me why we weren't allowed to go after that, it was clear that it was a means of escape, and Egerton alongside the Waitstill's were ensuring that no captives were let loose on the streets of the city tonight.

So I sat by the foot of my master as he spoke to a gentlemen with a purple drink on his hand and a mask made of exotic feathers I had never seen before. Everyone and everything in this manor seeped to the pore with luxury and money. Even the slaves were dressed with small scraps of clothing that made them look like the most exquisite items on sale.

My kitten ears were on and I was on my knees, leaving the tail to be deeply rooted inside me. I was wearing a pale pink slip that covered my cunt and the bottom halves of my breasts. I was made to showcase myself but I kept reaching to cover my skin. I felt Micah's gaze look down at me ever so often and the heat rose to my cheeks. Men and women alike all around stared at me like I was a meal, ready to be bit into. I felt the heat course down to the center of my thighs. 

I saw how the guests were taking vials of something. I guessed it was an aphrodisiac with the way their shoulders relaxed and their bodies inclined to others. I felt someone touch the edge of my ears and I glanced up at the sight of a young looking man with a red satin mask on. 

"She  _is_  spectacular," his voice sounded sinister and tainted with drink. "Do you crawl?" 

I opened my mouth to answer but heard the hard voice come from above me. "She does, but she's spoken for..." I looked to see Micah's body was tense until he turned and saw who the man was. Micah's smile began to grow from the sides of his mouth before he moved forward to give the man a strong hug. "Where have you been, you bastard? I've been having to converse with rocks for humans." 

"Don't fret sweetheart, I'm here now... that's all that matters. Cherry is with Father and they're handing the money matters of tonights events with yours. You and I are in charge of making sure we get everybody in this bloody manor fucked to their chins." the man began to laugh and Micah followed soon after. 

After realizing I was still beneath him, he bent down and whispered in my ear, "This is one my best and only friends, Birch. He's not one to be cautious of, Kitten" 

I nodded my head and crawled closer to Micah. I looked around the room trying to see if I could notice anyone that looked to be Micah's future lady. All the women in the room had a man or pet on their arm, which left me as lost as when I began my search. Many guests were already seated within the pocketed private enclosures and I watched as pets bounced on top of their masters, as female slaves kissed each other and touched each other in front of an audience, as male slaves were put to show in touching themselves in front of the high ladies. 

I felt someone tracking my gaze and I looked up to see Micah smirking at me. I bit my lip, "Sorry, Master. I - I was just-" 

"I know exactly what you were doing, Kitten. Stand up." he motioned with his fingers for me to rise from the marble floor. I rose slowly and I felt him move my waist closer to his, before my back was against his chest and his hands were placed firmly on the small slips of skin on my hips. 

I gasped at the heat and felt his building arousal on the small dip of my back. "Do you like watching, Kitten?" he moved his fingers lower into my slip and my eyes snapped shut against the sensation. "Do you like seeing other pets pleasure their masters?" my lips parted and my core clenched with wanton lust. "Does it make your cunt wet thinking about all the things I want to do you?... All the things I soon will.." His fingers edged the top of my now bare cunt and I stifled a moan, wanting to press back into him before he released me, making me turn and face him. 

"I want you to treat tonight a study, Kitten. Because once tonight is over, I'm not holding back  _anything_. I've finally got nothing to lose." his voice came out rougher than before and he softly tapped my shoulder indicating for me to go back to the position I was taught. 


	28. Micah | A Crack in The Circus

** Chapter 27: A Crack in The Circus  **

"Micah," I heard my uncle call for me from one of the corner booths. He sat with his pet, a few other men and one tall blonde woman pouring champagne into all their glasses. I walked toward them and felt the comfortable sound of Kitten as she followed close behind me. Not straying far from what she knew. I could see that the whole evening was something of a shock to her innocence.

"Gentlemen, this is my dashing oldest nephew. Brain that ticks faster than a clock" Uncle Henley said with a small wink behind his mask.

"Uncle," I nodded before smiling at the array of suited men in front of me. From the middle two's facial expressions I knew they were both from the council. Both donned similar masks made from titanium and other heavy metals. Ironically, they were probably the most discerning in this whole arena. It was the way I always looked at these galas, like arenas. You had to have your wits about you, your back never turned to the wrong person, all the while slowly intoxicating yourself with liquor and sex.

"Contrary to what my Uncle may think about me, I'm neither dashing nor the real star of the night. Finn's running around here somewhere, I assure you. He's probably the only Waitstill that isn't always up to something bad " I answered with voice that dripped with charm. They all laughed from their guts, I took a seat and saw Uncle Henley nod approvingly.

"Who's this?" a man said across from me. I followed his eye-line to Kitten, and noticed her whole body stiffen under the weight of all the men's gazes. This would be her first test, she could not break under this pressure or it would look badly on my disciplining abilities.

I opened my mouth to answer but Uncle Henley cut me short. "I gifted Micah a pet to play with before his youthful days were taken over by the responsibility the company held. You never did tell me, Micah... How is the young thing?"

I turned to Kitten saw her look down at her closed knees. The way she had been trained to, never to speak unless spoken too.

"In truth Uncle..."  _I need her more and more everyday. The way she breathes, the way she hums when she sleeps, the way her more craves what I give her but her mind fights for its life. The way her brows knot when she struggles with her arousal. The way her skin glistens from the light of the fire. I couldn't imagine ever letting her go._

"She's a useless object in my life... but I do so love her cunt." I spoke clipped. I turned away from Kitten and didn't dare to look at her once more. I knew she could hear everything I was saying. There wasn't a point in letting her know I was lying. She was a commodity, a bargaining chip in the grand scheme of things.

The men loved that one. They begin laughing once more and I reached out to pour more champagne into their glasses. The grape alongside a lot of other beverage and foods in the building had a mild intoxin, much like an aphrodisiac - it loosened many inhibitions. Chemists were constantly in conversation with my Father about the next hallucinogenic substance. I stirred my own whiskey in my glass. It was untouched and untainted.

"Casey?" Uncle Henley called out to his slave. She was behind the booth with some of the other pets, she walked slowly towards him and gave him her brightest smile before kneeling besides Kitten. "I'm sure you and the new little mouse can show us a grand time."

My whole body shortwired. I sat up straighter and narrowed my eyes at Uncle Henley. He was testing me. He didn't look at me but the small smirk that rose in the corner of his mouth proved otherwise. He knew what he was doing, it was almost like it was planned. Then again, perhaps I was thinking into it. He had his brother's mind, and like all Waitstill's, it thought further ahead.

I heard a couple approving grunts come from the men that sat beside me and I listened as they called for their private slaves to come join them by their knee. One man even got his male pet to start undoing his zipper.

I turned to look at where Kitten was shifting away from Casey, but Casey had a wild glint in her eye that made her stalk closer to her. "Master, I don't think that kitty wants to play."

I turned to Kitten and made sure she saw exactly what I needed her to do. Her eyes were starting to water, but I shook my head slightly. They couldn't see this. They had to believe that I had no emotional ties to her. It would be perceived as a weakness at least.

"She has to wait for me to give her permission before she allows herself to be touched. It's trained into her." I said, the lies swimming fresh from my lungs. "Kitten, it's alright." I nearly forced the words out.

The look on her face was one of disbelief but if I noticed it correctly, there was almost a regal sense of loyalty towards me that shimmered in her eyes. Casey crawled closer to her and Kitten stood still, watching me and no-one else.

"Y-yes Master" a sound as soft as silk came from her. I nearly shut my eyes at hearing her voice. I could see my Uncle watching the exchange closely. Casey leant forward and started kissing Kitten's neck humming as she licked a line from her pulse to her collarbone. Kitten shut her eyes and lean't into the kiss.

I felt my cock twitch in my pants, I didn't want these men,  _any_  men to look at her when she's being pleasured. Hell, I didn't want anyone to pleasure her but me. Yet, here I was, sick as any one of these vile creatures lapping up my Kitten getting aroused by another woman.

Casey slipped off the straps of her shimmering slip dress and her milky white breasts came into view. Kitten's eyes opened and stared at them with a hint of bewilderment in her eyes, I doubt she'd ever thought that being with another woman would be like this in her head. Yet, who knows what she thinks about. Casey leaned herself up and gave the audience as well as Kitten an explicit view of her teardrop bosom.

"Tell her to suck, Micah" I heard Uncle Henley speak but I couldn't take my eyes away from my girl. I saw the way her mouth pursed in understanding and her eyes met might in rivalry. She was born of fire and I wanted to fucking burn myself just to feel something.

"Lick her, Kitten" I breathed out. I inched closer around the booth to where they were and leant my elbows on my knees. Leaning in to watch them as closely as I could. "Suck on her"

Casey moaned loudly and cupped her own breasts. I could tell she was drunk under the liquid my uncle probably gave her, losing every sense of control. She was not the same girl I saw in the office a couple weeks back. She started rubbing herself against Kitten's thighs and Kitten watched her in a heated frenzy.

_Do you want to lose yourself like that, baby?_

Kitten leant forward and latched on to Casey's right nipple, sucking on the rose bud, letting everyone see. I could hear the men behind me grunting and I turned to see that several other pets had come to join inside the booth. All of them pleasing in different manners, the smell of sex in the air.

Kitten moaned and my eyes lit as I watched her reach down and cup Casey's cunt. I cursed under my breath and felt my arousal hard under the constraints of my trousers. I wanted her to put those lips around my cock and choke on it, feed on my cum, live off it.

"Put a finger inside her, Kitten. Like you want it inside you." I said, my voice was rough like sand on wood. I knew my Uncle was watching everything like a hawk ready to report to my Father even the slightly mistake.

My Kitten listened obediently and rubbed a finger inside Casey. Casey ground herself on her fingers and Kitten sucked harder on the other nipple. I saw Kitten start to move her hips against the ground and seek some sort of friction.

My head was spinning with desire, and I wanted nothing more than to taste her. I moved hastily from my seat and smiled at the gentlemen and my Uncle before grabbing by the forearm. I yanked her up and felt her whimper in my arms, her eyes dozed with lust and yearning, she cupped her hands around my face and nuzzled into my neck like a true feline needing warmth.

"Excuse me gentlemen," I said walking straight out the booth and not looking back. I turned Kitten and I to a separate corner and entered a conjoined room that was empty. Shutting the door, I pushed her against the wood.

The feeling of her body against mine nearly made me release in my fucking trousers. "You're such a dirty little thing" I sneered into her neck, biting down into her flesh. "You want all of this, don't you Kitten?"

I heard her moan against my hair, she dragged her fingers through the strands and yanked my body closer. "Master, please"

"Who owns your cunt, Kitten? Who owns that pretty little pussy?" I ask, kissing her collarbone and sucking on the salt laced skin. Her tail was against the door and I pressed her harder so that the plug would sink further up into her arse. Reaching back, I held the tail in my hands and pushed her up and against my cock, rising her slightly from the ground. Making her feel what she did to me.

"You. You.  _You_ " she cooed into my ear, I felt her body tremble at the friction between us. I reached one hand down and unzipped my trousers. I heard her gasp as she felt my hard length against her thin slip dress. It felt like torture being this close but still so fucking far away from her.

"I want you to show me, Kitten" I moved her body away from mine and tapped her shoulders the same way she was trained to know when to kneel. She looked up to my eyes in a strange sort of enchanted way, and licked her lips. She knelt down and faced my cock with her lips barely touching the tip. I took a step forward which made her head go flat against the door and her kitten ears press against the wood.

I rubbed my length against her bottom lip and watched as it glistened wet. "Open your mouth"

Kitten opened her mouth with no restraint and licked the head of my cock ever so softly. I groaned as the fervor took over my body and I opened her mouth wider by pulling her bottom lip. With one hand on her lip and one hand on my cock, I moved closer until I felt the warm heat of her mouth take over every bone in my body. Her tongue slid against the base of my cock and I had to stop myself from rocking inside her.

"Such a whore for me, Kitten" I reached down and wrapped a hand around her throat feeling her windpipe with the pads of my thumb. "Suck on it like you sucked on the other pet"

I felt Kitten wrap her mouth around me and start to suck. Wet noises surrounded us and she moaned against my skin, I saw her hand go down and press against her pussy. My hand reached up and slapped the side of her cheek. My cock came out of her mouth and spit drooled down her chin. "Did I give you permission to touch yourself?"

I pressed my thumb and my fingers against the side of her cheeks and she moaned, "Master please forgive me" Her lips were wet with salive and I reached down with my thumb and glided against it before sucking on it, tasting her mouth but not letting myself fall close enough to kiss her there.

Her cheek started to redden and her body went into a heat "If you want to be forgiven, you need to prove just how much" I breathed. I saw her reach down with her mouth and wrap her lips around my cock once more. She was not experienced and the clash of teeth and tongue made that transparently clear. Yet, still I had never been in such a frenzy as then when I rocked myself into my pets mouth, made her gag and choke on my cock.

I felt my release building, and the more she slid her tongue along my head and pushed her head forward to try and take my whole length, the closer I got. My balls tightened and I moaned with my hand in her hair and one pressed against the door, feeling her throat on my tip.

"Yes Kitten, Fuck" I groaned letting my seed spill into her mouth as she choked at the sensation. I took my cock out and immediately shut her mouth. Pushing my release back into her mouth with my thumb, her mouth filled to the brim.

"Drink your milk like a good pet," I said, kneeling down in front of her, with my hands clamping her jaw shut. I saw tears start to form in her eyes but her body spoke differently, leaning closer to mine. Inching ever so slowly to me.

"Swallow it, Kitten." I breathed leaning closer to her face, letting my nose travel against the side of her cheek. Feeling my seed inside her mouth. I felt her head shake and I nearly laughed at her struggle. "Aren't you thirsty? Swallow your milk and then say thank you"

I felt her throat bob and I heard the soft sound as she swallowed.

_"Thank you, Master"_


	29. Cinesra | Danger Lies Inside Murky Waters

** Chapter 28: Danger Lies Inside Murky Waters **

Lincoln entered the room through a side door I hadn't even seen. He told Micah that his father wanted to see him in the main ballroom. I sat, drunk off lust and desire in sinful proportions and saw the whole exchange pass through my vision, without moving a muscle.

"I want you to come find me, Kitten" I heard Micah tell me before walking out the door with a small smile inching at the corner of his lips.

I tilted my head back and met the wood behind me, my core clenching and my blood on fire. Every single nerve on my skin felt like it was ignited. I didn't know if it was the aphrodisiac and the environment of this place or if I was tired of fighting. I knew I was a different person, I just never knew he could bring something out of me that ventured into such carnal desires.

I wanted to reach down and press the bundle of nerves that throbbed on my cunt. But in my heart I knew I needed to listen to my Master, I  _wanted_  to listen to him.

My eyes flicked around the room and suddenly I felt too exposed, raw everywhere. I stood up and gathered the material of my slip and fixed the tail that was plugged behind me. I stifled a moan at the sensation but managed to compose myself before reaching to open the door. I was met with a rush of voices around me, glasses clinking and laughter echoing around the thin walls. 

Gooseflesh ran up and down my body as I scanned the room for my Master. I could feel the soft sensation of arousal on my cunt, the material of the slip not being enough to stop the air from making me shudder. The lobby was connected to the main ballroom, I could see figures entering and exiting through the double doors. The entrance to the manor was now closed and the nights events were about to unfold before my eyes. An excited flush heated my cheeks and I got down on my knees to start crawling like I was taught. 

I crawled out the room and saw forms to both my sides. I was struck shocked when I saw a woman whipping a man to humiliation in a side room, the man had a ball gagging his mouth and the privacy of the room would have been enough to shield the atrocity of the action, yet my viewpoint let me see through the slight slip. I carried on crawling towards the entrance with my head down, but my ears picking up every slight sound of pleasure that came from around me. 

When I entered the main ballroom, I saw Micah standing near the front talking to a circle of five people. A woman stood between them and four men including Micah and his father smiled towards her. I quickened my pace, hoping he wouldn't get upset at my late arrival. When I neared him, he immediately caught my presence and I saw the timid warm smile purse his lips as he looked down at me. 

I sat back down on my legs and looked down at my palms facing down on my thighs. My kitten ears and tail both still intact and my body on fire. I looked up from the top of my eyelids and saw the woman was very young. I would even say younger than me perhaps, she had beautiful blonde hair that was styled to the top of her head, held up with various gems and jewels. She had a mask with white feathers and a yellow tip nose that reminded me of a swan. It suited her. 

"Micah is so looking forward to the proposal," I heard his father say "His marriage to your dear Adeline would be a perfect way to bring our two companies together" 

My head shot up and I looked up at Micah. This was the girl he was to wed. I felt my lungs cease breath and my body lost all its vitality and it felt like my mind was going through a power shortage. 

I heard Micah speak then, "If I do say, you look beautiful tonight, Adeline. I'm quite stunned." 

His voice was strained and almost forced but his words came out as clear as day. I held my breath, but a small gasp escaped my lips and I shut my eyes hoping no one heard. 

"Who's this?" A rough male voice came from above me, I assumed him to be the girl's father. He had black feathers on his mask and he held it up with jewel crusted gloves. 

"She's no one-" Micah began

"This is Micah's pet, gifted to him by his Uncle... A device to teach him discipline that he will need for the company. But don't trouble, she'll be gone before the wedding bells toll." 

I saw the walls close in like a tempest washing into the mainlands. I looked up at Micah and saw him looking straight at the beautiful woman in front of him. The smile stretching across his face, his mouth moved and the words blurred. Everything blurred around the room except him, the voices silenced and the lights weren't bright enough. The feeling washed over me, I wanted to chew his heart out and spit it out in front of him. 

He knew. He knew he had to throw me out, he knew I was going to be left alone or left to rot in some cell after he was to marry. I was nothing more than an object and I wanted to claw my way through his anatomy and dig my nails into his lungs so that he can feel the breath squeeze out of him like it was doing to me. 

The feeling was overwhelming, I knew that this was a heightened emotion. It was the substance in the air, the chemicals I drank, this was all magnified. I let the tears pool in my eyes and cloud my vision of him. I see him look at me through his peripheral. He mouthed that he needed to be excused before I saw him reach forward and take the girls hand gently. Lowering his mouth, he placed two tender kisses on the back of her hand. I saw red. 

Micah turned and lifted me from the floor by my elbow. Like a child being scolded for doing absolutely nothing, a frenzy took over my body. I started clawing at the material of his suit and I felt him shake me into obedience. Going through a side door, I felt the rush of cool air rip through my slip. Micah let go of my shoulder and my hearing cleared to the sound of his screams. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He yelled into my face, the tears fell freely now. "I told you to do one thing, one thing only. To fucking behave!" 

He reached forward and I took a step back, my head starting to gain clarity from being outside. "Don't touch me" I whispered harshly. "Don't you come close to me!" I heard my voice come out yelling

"Don't forget that you belong to me, Kitten. Otherwise it will be a painful route for you." He sneered, his face morphing into something of the monster I saw the first day I stood in the Manor. He walked forward until my body pressed against the railing of the balcony that we stood in. He placed both hands on each side of me and caged me in. "Don't forget that I can have your body dead on the streets in less than a heartbeat." 

The image of him kissing the other woman so softly entered my mind and I didn't have a sense in the world. Everything went numb and I moved my face closer to his, he was leaning down and the tip of my nose touched his. "Then kill me." I whispered, voice cracking . "Fucking  _kill_  me, Micah" 

His name on my lips dragged him out of his anger. He started breathing heavier and I saw his eyes trace every inch of my face. I pushed forward and felt his arousal press against my leg. Arousal that was probably for the beautiful goddess who stood inside who was something I could never be. 

"I'm just an object, a device, a worthless commodity in your life. Fucking  _kill_  me! I will be dead anyway, you're going to get married and all that will -" 

My voice was forced to stop short. My whole body clutched and buckled as he crashed his lips into mine. Kissing me frantically, I felt the warmth of his mouth enclose onto mine. The world stopped moving for a small second, it tilted on its axis. He dragged his hands up and through my hair, holding me back. My body was half into the void, his hands were the only thing stopping me from falling down the side of the manor. All he did was take, he angled my head and ate me. Ate my mouth, kissed me and slipped his tongue inside me. All I could do was let him. 

His tongue slid against mine and my body shuddered landing back on earth. I heard him curse as he bit my bottom lip. He sucked my tongue into his mouth and I melted against his firm body. I was running out of breath and so was he, yet still he kissed me. Kissed me like he was trying to kill me, like he was doing exactly as I asked. _All I could do was let him._


	30. Cinesra | The White Flower

** Chapter 29: The White Flower **

I was the first to pull away. My body wept at the loss of contact, but my lips left his and my eyes blinked open. Micah sighed a wavering breath and kept his lids pressed shut. He pushed his forehead onto mine and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. I thought back to everything, how my life changed in a heartbeat. My kidnapping, my enslavement, my training and now him. My undoing. All the while, I sat and watched it unfold before my eyes. My heart stopped the moment I was stripped of any choice in my future, but somehow this man made it start again. That slow beat that only seemed to make me come alive for him.

_Nothing had ever scared me more in my life._

I pulled away and ran. I heard him call for me but all the noise around me became a loud steady sound of red. I thought of his lips on mine and how much poison they recited. I thought of his eyes and the deadly desires they had seen. I thought of him and everything I wanted. It sped me faster, it stole the breath from my lungs and pushed me forward. 

I heard murmurs all around me, a slave who wasn't on their knees was an infuriating sight. Yet, I didn't stop. Not even when I ventured into the great foyer and slowed down my pace to maneuver around the guests. All these masked devils who deserved nothing but the deepest corners of hell. 

My body hit a pillar and I pushed myself near it. I wrapped my arms around the marble and let my heavy breaths hit the cold form. The noises started coming back around me but I was too far into the shadows of the room to be seen. I knew Micah wouldn't follow me out here, it would be too outrageous for the master to follow the slave.  

My eyes started clearing and all the masked bodies moved around the room, comfortable with the toxicity. A familiar voice dragged my attention to the far side of the room. I saw the man that spoke to my master earlier on that night. Micah's voice rang clear in my head,  _"This is one my best and only friends, Birch. He's not one to be cautious of, Kitten"_

As if feeling the weight of my gaze, he looked behind him to see if anyone noticed where he was going. I frowned and hid deeper into the shadows, his body spoke of closeted desires and that's when I saw him slip into the slave quarters. The wide door opened and his masked face, alongside his lithe body easily slipped through the small opening. 

My immediate curiosity got the best of me and I was magnetized to leave the pillar. Knowing that a slave wearing my garments should crawl, I got down on all fours and started crawling towards the quarters. We were told not to enter that building tonight as the mansion was closed all except that part of the house. 

An idea piqued inside my brain. A dangerous and mostly daft one that could lead to my hanging. Yet it itched and scratched at my thoughts and my mind clung to the plan of escape. I reached the door and looked around me to see if anyone was watching. I scanned the room something around twelve times, mostly searching for Egerton or Crogsworth. 

On my last look of the foyer, my peripheral vision caught sight of a man standing absolutely still but facing my direction. I looked at him through hooded lids and saw him staring directly at me. I gasped but tried to conceal my shock by fixing the ears atop my head. He made no move to show that he planned on approaching me or reprimanding me so my gaze became more confident. He wore a mask that was plain to the eye, with a simple gold outline across the blackened edge. Nothing seemed of significance except the pin he wore on his left pocket. I looked up to get a steadier view and his head tilted at my movement. He seemed as interested in me as I was of him. I couldn't make out his expression due to the mask but my body fell back when I understood the pin. It was a pressing of the exact same shape of the Waitstill's rings , all save for the letter being an "M," not a "W."

The idea that this represented him formed a dark cloud in my head and I knew I had to get away from any man that affiliated with the vermin in this house. My hand reached up for the handle and I fell backwards through the opening. My body landed on the cold floor with a thud, the air whipped from my lungs and I felt a small pain on my lower back. Knowing that staying at the front of the door increased my chance at being recognized by any of the house help, I got up in spite of the pain and neared the edge of the door where I was safer in the shadows. 

I felt my chest rise and drop with my slow breaths and the ache in my back grew to the top of my spine and soon I felt heavy with the need to sleep. Voices got louder then softer as people passed the main corridor not knowing I was slouched in the corner, holding my breath. Strangely, my thoughts ran back to my master. Always to him. I touched my lips and felt the way he kissed me all over again, the thirst as he drank from my tongue and the desperate nature of his pull. He had needed to kiss me. 

A voice pulled me out of my own vicious mind. Her voice. It was Hemlock. I shook my head and rid my mind of these hallucinogenic sounds. My sister was safe in the bakery, with my mother and her mischief to keep her company. She wasn't in the manor, there was no plausible reason for her to be here. 

"Hey there, trouble... been looking for you" 

It was Birch. I inched closer to the light and peeked my head around to where the voices came and my body locked. I started breathing faster and I brought a fist to my mouth to keep from shouting out. There Birch stood, leaning against the wall looking directly at a young girl holding a tall basket of bread. I felt the tears prick my eyes and my head began wracking with the need to sob. With the need to run up and hug my sister as she stood in front of the devil. 

I didn't know if it was a trickery that accompanied the pain I was feeling, but I didn't care. Hemlock, my Lockie was standing here and all that ricocheted in my blood was the anguished need to get her  _out_.  

"I'm -I'm sorry, sir. I went out to get some more bread and I..I lost my way" I heard Lockie reply, with blushed cheeks and her hands beginning to shake.  _Bread?_ Then all the pieces came into place and I knew that this was no hallucination.They hired Mother's bakery, and that was why my sister was standing here. A white flower marching into an inferno, not knowing all that could come out was her petals burned crimson. 

I saw Birch smirk and push off the wall, he moved closer to her and took the basket from her hands. I told myself that Hemlock couldn't see me, she couldn't know I was here. The mere idea of her sister being kidnapped into sex slavery would ruin our family. No, she needed to keep the hope that I was just lost somewhere. 

Birch put the basket down and reached into his pocket. He brought a mint leaf to his mouth and my sisters eyes lit up with recognition. I cursed every God, if there was one thing that always interested my sister. It was nature. A noise in the kitchen behind them brought my sisters attention to the side but Birch continued to look at her mesmerized. I needed to find a way to the loading dock unrecognized, so I prayed that my sister would follow the noise back into the kitchen. 

Hemlock reached for the basket and looked up through her lashes. She was just a girl and the sight of the man before her had her fumbling for words. I never saw my sister get shy around boys, simply because I thought she was too young. Yet now, with her soft smile and her teeth clamped on her bottom lip, she whispered that she needed to head back. 

Birch let her go and followed her figure retreating with his eyes. I had every mind to go and slap the grin from his face but knew that I was smarter than that. The first thing he would do was go to Micah and let him know that his slave has been wandering in places I know I shouldn't be. 

Birch turned around and I saw him reach inside his pocket again. I inched back into the shadow and held my breath as he exited the slave quarters right in front of me. There was no one else looming in the corridor and I knew that it was the only chance I had to try and escape. A feeling tainted my skin and my thoughts flew back to Micah. I remembered his touch and his words as they breathed fire into my cold body. I shook the thoughts and desire and forced myself to focus on the vicious and unruly manners of cruelty that I had grown accustomed too. 

Brin told me to let my master fall so deeply in love that he had no choice but to be soft. I couldn't stay long enough for the opposite to happen. So I got up and I ran for the second time that night.  Except now, I was running towards the open doored loading dock. I was running  _home_. 


	31. Micah | Gently Hold The Monster

**Chapter 30: Gently Hold The Monster**

I had spent the last half hour looking for Kitten everywhere, I started to panic and everything around me felt like a void. Something... someone, she was missing and I needed to know she was safe inside. The doors were sealed and there were eyes and bodies at every entrance manning whoever left the manor. Yet, no matter how many times I repeated this, something felt cold in the air, like a slow poison eating away at a bitter leaf.

I saw Egerton beside a lit lamp, looking around the dancing hall. Beside him, stood Link, but knowing both their allegiance to my father at the moment, I knew it was best not to trouble them with my situation. If it came to it, I would strip this entire mansion down brick by brick and find her.

"Dinner is about to be served, Waity. You might want to find your little pet." A voice shook me out of my thoughts. It didn't take the mischief in the voice for me to know who it was; I could recognize Birch blind. I turned around and saw Birch walking toward me with a roguish glint in his eyes.

"What are you not telling me?" I seethed. He had his mask in his hand and another in his pocket. Birch always looked like the more unkempt one, his sister was nothing if not the picture for class and stature. My best friend on the other hand, always seemed to be up to no good. His suit had always been tailored to fit him perfectly, yet still there was something that never quite sat well with him and order.

"Now now, sweetheart... Is that anyway to talk to your beloved?" Birch winked. He took his mask and wrapped it around his head before leaning into me and whispering. "The girl, from The Shell... she's here"

A snake composed of ice slithered up my spine and choked my throat. It took a couple of minutes for the realization to sink in, Birch was talking about the girl that had a picture of Kitten on pieces of parchment. He was talking about Kitten's sister.

"What?" I breathed once I found my voice. I whipped my head to face Birch and I could feel my eyes widening. "Birch, what in the hell are you talking about."

Birch frowned in front of me, visibly confused at my confliction. He narrowed his eyes and all signs of mischief vanished into thin air. "I saw her come in with some pastries earlier. So I decided I would make sure it was her, Micah. Sure enough, the little gem was floating around in the Slaves Quarters."

 _The Quarters._ Not every door was sealed. The only door that was open was the loading dock in the slave's quarters. The snake rose up to my trachea and I felt nauseous. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand and repeated the words; she wouldn't leave me. Not now.  _She was mine._

I took a breath in and forced my composure. Birch couldn't know that Cherry and I knew that she was Kitten's sister. Birch would deal with it in his own way and someone would end up in the crossfire. I swallowed hard and smiled at him, "Yeah? What did you say to her, Birchy?"

I should have known better because if anyone knew me back to front, it was Birch Cuts. He frowned deeper and took a step back away from me. "Mm, you know it was odd, Micah. I could have sworn I heard something... rather,  _someone_  lurking in the shadows whilst I tried talking to her. Like I said, you might want find your little pet."

The smile evaporated from my mouth and anger coursed through my veins. I pushed Birch away from in front of me and my hands balled into fists. I maneuvered around the sea of people in the room and all but ran to the double doors of the slave's quarters. If Kitten had seen any sight of her sister, it was a surefire way to get her to want to escape. I know I shouldn't have kissed her, in fact everything about it just made me want to do it again. But I couldn't get myself to regret it. Even now, as I marched past the doors and looked around at the corners of the hallway, I still could taste her tongue lingering on my mouth. I could feel her soft lips suck on my lip. I could smell her body curving around mine. It drove me to start running.

The loading docks were situated at the far end of the Quarters. They were their so that anytime food or necessities came through for the manor, the servants were the first to assort them and put them in their necessary place. My father grew up with people constantly serving him, this was no different. I reached the hallway that lead to the end opening of the loading docks. I slowed down and saw boxes laying around the entrance, no one from the safekeeping detail were situated and a desperate tempest began to clutch around my chest.

The doors were wide open and the cool air from the midnight sky blew in, kissing my hair and my skin. I held my stomach and went down on both knees. My kitten was smart; she was probably running as fast as her little body could take her. Not bothered by the cold, or by her lack of direction. I saw her running away from me, running from everything I couldn't give her. I felt bile rise to my throat and my eyes laced with wretchedness. It felt like a piece of me, a vital organ had been ripped out and consumed. I breathed heavy and soon, the desolation transformed into fury. An anger so red, it clouded my vision.

She didn't belong to herself anymore. I owned every bone in her pathetic little body, she ran to spite me. I'd fucking find her. I'd find her and make sure she knew that I possessed her, she thought she was nothing but an object in my life. I'd let her believe it. I pulled myself up from my knees and walked straight out the double doors of the loading docks.

The stars roamed free in the sky and there were hushed whispers as people walked in the backstreets outside the gate. I thought to her smile and wanted to rip it from her face, wanted to rid herself from my system if she didn't want to be there. I would hold her captive by her limbs like a lamb going to slaughter. I would do all this and hate myself for being my father. But I was him, my mother was wrong and all along I was him.  _I am him._ I was senseless to trust a lowly girl given to me as a pet. She deserved nothing but the wolves she was given to.

Then, ever so softly a voice that dripped with nectar came from behind me.

_"M-master?"_


	32. Cinesra | A Serpents Tongue

** Chapter 31: A Serpents Tongue **

He turned to me and I saw the look of betrayal that had struck his face. My breath hitched and I felt the tears prick in my eyes.

I tried running, I tried and every time I took a step further away from the manor, I thought about home. I thought about the bakery and Lockie, the smell of sugar cookies in the morning, how my fingers would always be sticky from kneading dough, the way Ma would blow the hair away from her face and get flour everywhere. I thought about the way Lockie smiled in front of Birch and how it would ruin her to know where her sister had been all this time. It would ruin me to admit that I started lusting after the person that held me captive. I could lie to Lockie, I could lie to Ma, but one thing that I couldn't do was lie to myself.

Yet still, I ran.  _I had reached the gate that circumfrenced the Waitstill Manor and was stopped short by the sounds of carriages. I ventured back into the shaded path, where the lanterns didn't light the way to the gates. I heard coughing behind me and stilled. I put a fist to my mouth to muffle any screams of shock or hard breaths._

_"It's okay Cinesra, you don't have to be afraid." the cool voice came from behind me._

_I turned to see Finn sitting underneath a gently weeping willow tree. He had tears that stained his cheeks, and a bottle of some dark liquor in his right hand. His eyes were bloodshot and his whole body trembled from the cold. I hadn't even realized that the temperature was chilling until I saw him. I wrapped my hands around my chest and took a step back._

_"How do you know my name?" I whispered into the wind. Although, it was a foolish question. I already knew the answer._

_"Brin." He replied, his eyes boring into mine. "You don't have to burden yourself; I haven't told my brother. That's what you want isn't it? To keep a part of you... the old you safe?"_

_I nodded. Finn never seemed to scare me like the rest of the household did, his eyes were gentle. His movements were timid and every time he looked at Brinley, I wanted to believe in love. "Thank you. For not telling Micah."_

_"You plan on running tonight?" It wasn't a question but he staged it like one._

_My body went frigid. I knew he wasn't a threat but could I trust him? Could I tell him, maybe he would help me? He could give me some coin and I can catch a carriage into the South side. I felt the distant cheer of the Gala. Finn was many things, but senseless was not one of them. He constantly surveyed the room and felt the atmosphere as if it flowed through his veins. The rest of the Waitstills had something much darker in their bloodstream, Finn was almost from a different genetic material. If he wasn't a part of this family, I would never guess it._

_"What are you doing outside the Manor?" I walked closer to him and deeper into the shadows. If anyone were to see two figures in the dark at this hour, they would tell Egerton or Lincoln first. That was a chance I couldn't take._

_"You think you're the only one that is held captive?" he smiled sadly. He brought the bottle to his lips and drank three mouthfuls before wiping the excess on the sleeve of his coat that probably was worth more than my entire life._

_A splurge of anger danced in my body. I felt the heat rise to my voice and I sneered out "You think you can compare your situation with mine? I'd watch your tongue sir, a lot of people would murder to be in your spot. All but bathed in riches since your milk-maiden handed you to your mother. Covered in luxury and never having to worry if you earned your daily bread. So don't you dare. Not even for a second, think you are anything like us. Like Brinley, like me."_

_I watched him watch me. He kept silent and maintained his steady breathing. I shivered against the cold and saw him reach to take his coat jacket off before I raised my hand to stop him. I would soon die tonight than owe anything to a Waitstill that just compared thousands of slaves to his life painted gold._

_"Cinesra, there are different types of cages. I take no haste in empathizing for what you are being put through-"_

_"Then do something about it, you coward."_

_"You think I have that kind of power? You think Micah does? You think I want to see Brinley have to endure this. Have to watch me lay with a woman tonight. It's why I'm here. I would much rather have the luxury of running away then be made to sleep with a stranger to prove my manhood. I'm in love with him." He breathed out and I saw a tear drop down his cheek and pool around the corner of his lower lip. "I don't plan on stop loving him. But that can never happen."_

_I swallowed a hard breath and looked down. "I am... going to run tonight. I doubt I'll ever get this much of a chance again." He could do whatever he pleased with that information, but I planned on being halfway into the country before the words reached my Master's ears._

_"Cinesra, he'll find you." His voice sounded dark. "Not my brother, but my father will. If you think whatever has happened to you now is torturous, you have naught on the methods my father excels in. If I were you, I'd know that Micah already knows you aren't in the Manor, and I'd go back and much sooner beg for his forgiveness than meet the ways of Nicholas Waitstill."_

_I looked up at him and walked backwards, shaking my head. I couldn't, I had come this far and I needed to let my mother and Hemlock know that I wasn't father. I didn't leave them. They needed me._

_"You know I can't do that... I have a sist-"_

_"Cinesra, you go back and endure Micah's punishment for a couple weeks or run and die a slow burning death in my fathers customized hell for you. I'm not going to stop you from running, but I would never willingly let myself know I didn't help stop put your life in danger"_

* * *

I walked toward Micah and cupped his face softly. My hands shook ferociously and the wind pushed dark strands in front of his face. He spoke nothing, only breathed slow, his lips curled in disgust. I took a deep breath in and willed my heart not to scream out and commanded myself not to cry anymore in front of this man.

"Master, I couldn't do it" I spoke softly, running the pad of my thumb near the creases of his mouth, smoothening them down and watching him flinch at my every touch. His suit had splotches of dirt in various places and his towering figure seemed much more powerful than it ever was.

I moved my hands away from his face and shakily brought them to the straps of my chiffon drape. My tail lay somewhere in a corner, alongside my ears and everything else that was gifted to me by him. His eyes never left mine and I swallowed a scared breath before removing the straps and felt the material pool at my ankles, leaving me completely bare in front of him.

"I belong with you, to you" I breathed, lowering my voice as far as I could. "My body is yours, my cunt is yours, only yours." I felt the bile rise to my throat at the arousal that started to make my core throb. His eyes still remained on mine and I licked my lips at the desire that coursed through my veins.

Maybe Finn was right to tell me to stay, I was just as sick as this man standing in front of me. Maybe I wanted every dirty, sinful thing he planned on doing to me. Maybe I craved it. "I tried, and I'm sorry." I felt the tears sting my eyes, I prayed to every saint that he wouldn't punish me. That he truly did have a heart.

I looked down and saw his arousal towards me. I had lived with him long enough to know the filthy yearnings he took pleasure in. I moved closer to his body and pressed myself against his warmth. The cool air making my entire body on edge. His breaths increased pace alongside mine and I felt his heat on my stomach as he finally looked down at my body.

I reached down between us and heard him hiss as I gently passed his cock. I dipped a finger into my cunt and brought the slick digits up to my mouth and tasted myself, looking straight into his eyes. "I want you, Master. I trust you and I want you to keep me."

His hands stayed beside his body and his head tilted to look at me closer. His lips parted and I saw him lick his bottom lip. I whimpered softly at the sight and unapologetically started moving against his body. He truly was beautiful, his hooded eyes a deep shade that made my thighs ache. I didn't know if all the words that I spilt were false or true anymore. I reached down for his hands and placed one hand on my waist and brought the other to my lips, lightly kissing his knuckles.

I closed my eyes and whispered his name. Immediately, the veil dropped and I felt him rip his hands away from mine. He cursed and stepped away from me. He shook his head and looked at me with a glare so cold, I could have sworn he killed me twice over in his mind.

He stalked toward me and cupped my face in his hand, his thumb and fingers pushing into my cheeks. A look of pure revulsion smeared his features, his brows knotted and other hand fisted. The tears fell harder then and I started shaking my head as a plead. I tried opening my mouth to beg for his mercy, when his other hand reached up and slapped my breast before wrapping around my throat. His rough fingers gave me no room to breathe and all I could do was claw at his hands, all but nearly above the floor.

"Do you take me for foolish?" he sneered, his voice silky like venom. I shook my head rapidly, trying to reach for mouthfuls of air. "Do you really believe I don't know exactly what you're doing? Don't flatter yourself, Kitten. Your cunt is just as good as any other street whore I've had the pleasure of feeling. I'll fuck you once and tire of you soon enough."

The tears ran freely and I felt them fall on his skin. I stopped fighting and let the small white spots cloud my vision. His voice started losing intensity more and more as I fought against the black. "Do you really think you could make me believe you wouldn't leave if you had the chance?" My eyes lost its capacity to stay open and I felt my lids become heavier. I dig my nails into his hand and it could be the lack of air that was causing me to hallucinate, my mind playing tricks. Yet still, I heard his voice break ever so softly, his words slurring, coming out as a sob, a young boy weeping.

_"I could have lost you tonight. I could have lost you, I don't want to lose you. Don't leave me... Don't -"_

Black. 


	33. Micah | Moths In The Dark

** Chapter 32: Moths In The Dark **

I stood beside the flickering lantern and watched her in her cage. She lay sleeping on the ground, the sheet underneath her and her naked body breathing slowly. I watched the rise and fall of her chest like a predator assessing his prey. My little kitten, with her skin like freshly sieved milk, and her hair like a dragon's tresses.

When she stopped struggling in my arms, I took her inside through the back hallway, from the music room and away from the onlooking guests and the late summons of the Gala. I washed her body and cleaned the dirt from her collarbone. I didn't stop at the call of a knock at my door, or the sound of Link telling me my father awaited my company downstairs. Instead, I stroked her skin and felt her steady heartbeat on the pads of my fingers. After telling Egerton to put her cage back in my room, I ensured that she would not leave this time. Everything looked the exact same as the first time I saw her sheltered in the corner of my room. Caged and drinking from a bowl, looking up at me with those daggers for eyes and challenging every part of my wellbeing. Now... and  _now_ , she lay and all I wanted was for her to awake and swear to me that she wouldn't leave again.

I heard her stir on the ground and I my thoughts disappeared and my heart picked up pace. This fucking physiological reaction I had to even knowing she was there was something I didn't need. Not with her, not with anyone.

The temperature of my room was wintry and I felt the atmosphere immediately drop lower. Her eyes slowly blinked in a daze and her body was limp against the sheet. I stayed back and made no move to go towards her. She would have to learn not to test my patience, she would have to see how much she needed to stay here. If disciplining my pet was what my father wanted, it's exactly what he would get. I was tired of fighting, I was tired of running. I was fucking tired of it all. Just never tired of her.

I hadn't earned her submission yet. I knew this, I knew from the minute she was captured and came into my hands, I had forced her submission. So now, I shall wait and earn it. I needed it to be on her terms, else her escape would be one of many trials that would happen. That  _couldn't_  happen. She was simmering, waiting for a single spark to ignite her. I could see it in every movement she made. 

I heard her soft breaths and waited for recognition to set in. I heard her gasp softly, then her breaths increased, until I could all but feel her fear. Her head lifted from the sheet and she looked around at her surroundings. The light beside me was enough for me to make out the struggle she faced internally as she realized where and what she was in. I saw her touch her forehead with the back of her hand and then look up around. Her eyes caught mine and her body stilled in shock. 

"M-master?" her voice trembled, coarse as if she hadn't drunk anything for weeks. I looked beside at her bowl and then back at her. I didn't say a word, yet still I felt my body magnetize towards her and I had to stop myself from taking steps forward to close the gap between us. 

Her bottom lip quivered and I the tears slowly pool in her eyes. "What did I do... Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this damnation?!" I heard her whisper to herself.  Her voice sounded broken, so broken I wanted to reach out to her and put her pieces back together. But I did this. I was the reason she was like this, and I could no longer pretend she wanted me. This was nothing more than a slave and an owner. A pet and a master. Nothing that resembled a mere man and woman. 

Perhaps, in another life I would approach her at a tavern where she worked serving drinks in the later hours. I would be a lowly butchers boy, coming for hops with the small change I made. Her hair would catch my eye at first, then her lips, her smile and her eyes. Then she would speak and I knew that this would be the only woman I ever wanted. Not a mouse, not a kitten. A woman, with a name. 

"Master, please" she breathed, the tears now falling like snow and blotting the sheet beneath her. "Please don't do this, please" 

I saw her look up at me and my chest squeezed at the sight of her. Still as she laid crying, she was the most beautiful creature. "Micah.." her breath came out staggered. Like she was slowly losing the competence to speak, to breathe, to  _live_. I wanted to tell her that I was the same, trapped in a cage I had no control over. Yet, I stood unflinching and looked at her. 

"You will do what you're told, behave yourself and restrain yourself" I speak, I see her eyes shut at the sound and she swallowed a broken plea "I chastise myself for the liberties I gave you, now I know I was wrong to trust you so easily." 

"No Master" she shook her head ferociously. "I was wrong, I made a mistake and it will never happened again," the tears fell freely. 

I watched her shake in her containment. I wanted to go inside and stay with her, hold her to my chest and ask to taste her tears. Taste her. I wanted to trust her again, and go back to thinking that she liked me. That there was more than just a discipline embedded into her to obey me, but rather a mutual respect. 

Instead, I turned and head towards the closed door. I blew out the lantern beside me and the room enveloped in darkness, leaving nothing but the sound of my kitten bathing in her fear. I reached for the door handle and opened it, nearly outside when a small voice came through. 

"Cinesra," she whispered


	34. Cinesra | Rose Metals

** Chapter 33: Rose Metals **

Hemlock once told me that our names were odd. The other girls were named after their nana, or people from the Bible. She told me once that I looked like a Rachel, to which I turned and told her that Rachel's do not have silver hair. I always knew my sister was wiser than all of us, she had a spark in her eye that you see in dark alleys simmering with magic and alchemy, she had the softest touch that only florists and botanists could embrace, she had a name that meant poison which took all her features and put it inside a deadly capsule. She told me names aren't judged by hair color.  _"They're judged by eyes, Cin"_

My Master had vicious eyes, eyes that Satan himself would worship. Yet, beyond that there was something brewing, something warm and comfortable and I felt sick to my stomach that I was beginning to understand his pain. I saw him then, standing by the door with his shoulders tense and body constantly on guard. His lips parted slightly and he took a small breath in. I didn't have to repeat myself, nor did I have to explain such an odd word in the language he spoke. He knew it was my name, yet somehow I didn't want him to call me by my name. I needed to hear 'Kitten' from his lips, watch it roll off his tongue and into my mouth.

He let out the breath he seemed to have held, and swallowed. I needed him to know that he could trust me, that I wasn't about to run from his arms. I needed him to know that it was a mistake, that my life would never be the same. So I breathed it into my name and spoke it out, letting my last thread to home fall between us and weep.

He turned softly and I saw him looking at the ground before slowly dragging his gaze up to meet my face. The bitter and cold stare morphed into a void blankness. He looked like a starved, hurt animal that had just been pierced by the hunter's arrow.

"Please" I whispered licking my dry lips "I  _need_  you"

A boldness struck me, "...and you need me," I saw his eyes twitch then, it moved me forward.

"I can see it; the way you look at me. You haven't taken me yet" my thighs clenched and his eyes shifted to the spot between my legs. "Not because you don't want to, but you want  _me_  to."

He took a step inside the room, towards my cage and I shifted closer to the bars that contained me. I looked him in the eye and refused to divert my gaze anywhere else. It felt like slowly losing touch with your sanity, watching it leave and doing nothing but gently kiss it goodbye. "I want you, I need you."

He knelt in front of me and brought his finger to touch the bow of my lips. I saw him mouth my name softly as he outlined the curve of my mouth. My breathing increased by just having his presence near me, by having him know I was with him. I reached forward and kissed the tip of his fingers, making him look back up at me.

"You still take me for a fool." He whispered sadly before shaking his head. He rose from the ground and I lurched forward making the cage rattle around us. He staggered slightly before gaining his composure and exiting the room with nothing by my pleas behind him.

* * *

The bath houses buzzed with voices and noise, yet everything around me seemed too quiet for comfort. Going down to cleanse myself was the only opportunity I was allowed outside the cage in his room for the past two weeks. Food was brought to me by Egerton and Lincoln replaced my water every night so I had to ration how much I drank. Brin, Belly and Aderyn were in the bath with me and the topic of my whereabouts during dinner and breakfast rang unheard.

I felt Brin tap my thigh and I looked toward him in a daze. His hair was wet and had grown quite a bit from the time I first saw him in the glass box. It covered the tips of his ears and his cheeks seemed less pale as every day passed. I hoped he found peace in his imprisonment. We deserved that solace, and if I couldn't attain it; then who better but Brinley.

I saw him part his lips before thinking better and closing them. Instead, he reached behind him and took the small bottle of soft pink liquid. Opening the lid, he poured a dollop in his hand and moved to sit behind me with both his legs holding me in place. I felt his fingers thread through my head and massage my scalp. Soon, lather began to form and the smell of the soap made me close my lids and enjoy the sweet sensation of Brin's fingers.

Once my whole scalp had been kneaded and every inch of my hair lathered, Brin nudged my body down by my shoulders and sunk the back of my head into the bath. My eyes remained closed as I felt the warm water surround me, thinking back to the days when I used to wash Locky's hair. I always put a hand atop her forehead guarding her eyes from the sting of the soap. I heard the door of the bath house open and my body jumped up against Brinley's hands to see who it was that entered. I shielded my chest with my hands and watched as Egerton walked toward our bath.

"It's time to return to your master's room" Egerton sighed diverting his eyes away from the naked bodies that fenced around him. This was the routine for the last fortnight, I had stopped trying to talk to Micah by the end of last week and time began to morph into a void reality. He always came after dinner, undressed, bathed and slept peacefully... gone before I woke during the day.

I stepped out of the bath and grabbed a soft towel beside the ceramic. Wrapping the linen around me, I nodded to Egerton, letting him know that I would meet him outside the building. As I dried myself and wore my light yellow slip, I thought back to my time in the lodging house. The night Micah and I shared underneath the moonlight and the sanctuary I felt being in his arms. That night felt too far away to even fathom now and I wondered if that version of him was all a dream I conjured in my mind. Another side effect from slowly understanding your captor.

Egerton escorted me to the room, and stood near the cage waiting for me to enter. I started walking towards my pen when I heard a retching sound come from the enclosed sinkroom behind me. I turned and heard the same vile heaving. My body immediately resolved to walking toward the sound, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Egerton spoke behind me, but his voice muted when I entered and saw Micah hunched over the bath tub, his back arching. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him and I saw the edges of his inner thighs had been sliced. My stomach lurched and I felt my mind go light with the idea of someone torturing the man in front of me. Then I saw it, the glint of metal near the soles of his bare feet, a small straight razor with the blade dipped in blood as if it were a line of ink. Without thinking, I rushed toward him and fell to my knees.

He made no effort to move, save for the small voice that rose from him. "Get her out of here, Egerton," it came out hoarse as if he had been screaming till he was raw. "Get her out, or so help me god-"

"Master, please," I whispered loudly, a sob wracking through me. "Let me help you, please." My voice matched his and I felt the tears pool in my eyes. I heard Egerton rushing toward the bathroom now, causing me to fling my arms around my master. I felt him jerk in my arms, making me hold on tighter, trying to fix all the broken pieces. I wanted to put him back together again.  _Please let me, Micah._

I heard Egerton intake a sharp breath behind me as he paused at the foot of the entrance. I dared not to turn and hold harder. I placed my cheek on his shoulder as his arms slung against the ceramic of the tub. I felt the sobs completely take me as I shut my eyes and felt his body close to mine. He had hurt himself, the blood that had slipped on my knees was proof of that. Something had caused him to do this, and I would have placed my last coin that it was his father. His body pulled with another cough and I felt the liquid leave his mouth as he retched into the bath.

"Egerton!" He all but screamed. I knew he didn't want me to see him like this. Fragile. Vulnerable.  _Human_. "Get. Her. Out!"

"Y-yes Sir," I heard behind me.

"NO!" I yelled, clutching harder. "No, please no! Micah, please. I'm begging you. Let me stay, please. Lock me up after, but let me stay right now."

The sound of my scream turned him cold. I felt his body collapse onto the edge of the tub and the only sound that remained was the bitter resonance of my weeping. Weeping for this man that made me both hate myself and him. This man that took away every choice and little freedom I had in this world. This man that made me lose touch with everything. I kelt there, holding on for dear life as if in any minute if I let go; so would he.

"Egerton, leave," I heard him whisper "If you repeat what you see to anyone, I'll have your body hanging on a curtain rod."

I heard a soft choking sound before retreating footsteps and the sound of the door closing. I felt him swallow a breath before his entire body tensed up further. He reached his hand upward and slowly took my arms off his body. He leant forward and slowly let the water from the faucet pour into the bath and take away the contents he had thrown up. The blood still smeared on the tiled floor beneath us, and I shivered from the knowledge that his thighs were cut open.

Moving forward, I crawled to the wooden box beneath the sink and found something I knew was perhaps always there. Letting me know that this was not a first occurrence, he had been hurting himself before. I took out the small coiled linen bandage and the pinned metal from a dish. I also took out an empty bowl and leant up to fill it with water.

I went back to him slowly and saw that his body still faced away from mine. This was the first time my captor was humiliated, embarrassed in front of me. I swallowed a breath and ripped a piece of the linen off before dipping it in the cool water. I submerged the cloth before pulling it up and placing it on the lash of his inner thigh. I hadn't even noticed that he was naked before, save for his briefs.

I heard him hiss and I opened my mouth to speak out words of comfort, but then shut them. There was nothing I could say, nothing that wouldn't be worthy enough.

"Cinesra, you don't have to -" his voice cut off as I replaced the now clean linen back on his skin. This was the first time I heard him speak my name. It sounded oddly comforting coming from his voice, and practiced. Almost like he had been repeating it for the last two weeks. I nuzzled closer to him and moaned at the heat I felt. I missed this man so much more than I anticipated.

As I let the bowl tint with the copper red of his blood, and cleansed his wounds; I finished by wrapping the bandage around his thigh, pinning it with the metal before dressing him. When he finally looked at me, I saw the gratitude in his eyes.


	35. Micah | Heat of A Thousand Silences

** Chapter 34: Heat of A Thousand Silences **

Link brought the usual meal that she had to my room, however this time it was accompanied by my dinner as well. This was a fair judgement to conclude that my Father was probably out in one of the whore houses or simply carrying on business as usual. His absence in the manor was the only plausible explanation for having my dinner in bed.

That's where I was, laying on my bed watching as my Kitten looked at the books around my shelf. I hadn't put her inside her constraints after she had bandaged me. Nor had I thanked her, but still she walked confidently around my room not once mentioning the lines on my legs.

However, she did return to her cage after I was dressed. After recognizing that I made no move to lock the container, she bravely ventured out. Always the curious one, my kitten. Always there to ensure my sanity remained grounded.

_Cinesra_

The name haunted me ever since it flew from her lips. It was nothing like I had ever heard before, yet it made so much sense when her image travelled with it. A name to end all names, a surprising poison as it beautifully infected every cell in my body till the only thing that remained of  _me_  was her.

I motioned for Link to leave the tray on my bed and make his leave from the room. As soon as the door shut, she turned to me and looked at the steaming meal. I saw the pity in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking. The glint that carried all the lost and broken princes in the tales she read when she was younger. She was categorizing me alongside them, letting herself fall for the devil she knows. I didn't want pity.

She walked towards the food tray, picked it up and came closer to me. She sat in front of me with the tray in between us and her legs crossed for ease. My eyes never left hers and I watched as she buttered the bread and slowly poured the painkilling serum inside my soup.

I dragged my gaze away from hers and looked down at my meal. It was similar to hers, but it could be easily recognized as different too. I lifted my hand towards the spoon but was stopped short by the sound of her voice.

"Let me," she whispered into the space between us. The space that seemed too large and too soon. "You aren't well tonight, let me attend you"

I nodded briefly and frowned as she dipped the spoon into my soup. She wanted to feed me, the thought sunk in.

"I'm not a cripple, you don't need to -"

"I want to" she said softly. After blowing on the soup, she covered the bottom of the spoon with an open palm incase anything spilled and brought it to my lips. I watched as she looked from the spoon to my mouth, back to the spoon again. There was an infatuation there, something that blossomed over time and marinated on our bodies.

I opened my mouth and felt the metal hit my tongue before the warm lentil soup travelled down my throat. I groaned at the comfortable heat that settled through my body. It went like this for a while, she ate and fed me in silence. Occasionally dipping the bread into the soup and bringing it to her lips. I watched as she chewed and followed the bump as it travelled down her throat.

I could feel myself going red, my whole body flushed as I remembered the time she took me in her mouth. Those sweet lips, covering the head of my cock and soon reaching the base. My breathing got more rushed and suddenly, I could feel her body heat as if she were sitting all too close.

"Is everything okay, M-Master?" she murmured. "Is the soup too hot?"

I shook my head and brought my thoughts back to the present. "N-no," I cough "Everything is fine"

"The bread needs more salt," she whispered to herself. She continued to bring the spoon to my lips, but I stopped short, slightly amused.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up at me and flushed embarrassed she got caught thinking out loud. She swallowed her mouthful and put the spoon back in the bowl before looking back at me. She bit her lip and pushed a strand of silver hair behind her ear before answering. "I used to work at a bakery," she said. "The bread... it's in dire need of salt."

Her voice lowered and she looked at my amusement strangely. She frowned slightly before crossing her arms in front of her chest. I glanced down at the milky white of her skin peeking through her slip dress and felt my stomach pang for something more than just soup.

"Is there something entertaining?" she asked with fiery conviction. "Didn't think I worked?"

My eyebrows raised and I looked back at the soup before raising the spoon to my mouth independent of her assumptions. After swallowing a couple spoonful's and wiping my mouth with a cloth, I languidly contemplated her.

"Kitten, I'm not shocked that you worked. Nor am I surprised it was a bakery." I spoke watching her movement carefully. Her hands were soft but rough at the knuckles. I had never thought she spent her days kneading at bread and decorating pastries. Yet, now after the knowledge... I couldn't think of her doing anything else.

"Then what is it?" her brows furrowed, confusion and frustration etched along her forehead.

"I shall inform Radella, that we desperately need to stock bread with a substantial amount of...  _salt_ ," I smirked, reaching down to carry more spoon to my mouth. I felt her heat dissipate from her body and suddenly, there was a glint of white. I glimpsed up and saw her cheeks pulled and her bottom lip bitten with a breathtaking smile. For a minute, I was struck mute. The oxygen in the room vanished and the nitrogen struggled to provide ease. I looked at the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and the flicker of amusement with the twitch of her nose. But her smile, her smile nearly knocked me down to my knees and collapsed my ribcage.

"My sister – she used to joke around and tell me I would be a baker my whole life," she rushed out, almost like she was speaking to a friend. She brought her attention back to the food and began feeding both her and myself once more. "I would tell her that she could sell flowers and I could make shortcake and sponge cake."

"Sounds like the perfect remedy for a cheating spouse," I smiled small, inching closer to her. She took a breath at the closing distance between us and made no effort to move further away.

Looking up at my lips, she watched my mouth close around the spoon. "Or a lover," she whispered.

I felt the spoon slip out and a dollop of soup fall on the corner of my mouth. I reached for the cloth but Cinesra immediately reached my mouth with her thumb to hurriedly swipe the hot substance. I saw her eyes flash as the heat of the soup seared her thumb and she urgently brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking the soup off.

I watched as she suddenly realized the promiscuity of her actions. I left the little dash of soup still on the corner of my mouth and watched her slowly remove her thumb from her mouth, seeing the tip of her tongue curl. I felt my cock twitch and my eyes lidded at the sight of her licking her lips clean. Her breathing became more ragged and she watched as I watched her. I looked down at the movement of her clenched thighs and softly whimpered at the prospect of her arousal.

My kitten opened her mouth before closing it softly. She carefully inched closer to my body and stared only at my mouth, hers was slightly parted and her cheeks reddened. I saw her look up at my eyes once before daringly glaring back at my lips. She had moved so much so that the tray of food would be bashed down to the floor by her knees, but still her face remained a hairs breath away from mine.

I stayed still, not wanting to instigate or scare her. This was on her accord, and she would decide what would happen next. I scrutinized her patiently, letting her memorize the curvature of my lips, the orange stain at the corner of my mouth. I breathed deep and shuddered when she pulled closer and let the tip of her tongue slip out. Leaning, she brought her tongue to the little residue of soup around my mouth. She closed her eyes and licked the remainder away.

My whole body capsized, groaning at the wet sensation of her tongue dancing so close to my mouth. I wanted her to slip into my mouth and let my bite her flesh, lap at her taste and suck her clean. I shut my eyes and felt my cheek touch hers. Until her palm grazed my ear and slowly moved to cup my cheek instead.

When her lips touched mine, I felt every single scorch of hellfire lick through my body and shatter me like glass. 


	36. Cinesra | Fresh Linen

** Chapter 35: Fresh Linen **

His tongue slid against mine and his hand wrapped around the back of my neck like a vice, bringing me closer to his body. The tray fell to the floor, causing soup and bread to spill across the carpet underneath. Still, we remained transfixed, magnetized to each other. It was as if my body came alive underneath his touch and the world faded to a deep shade of black around us. He devoured my mouth like a man starved and I opened to him freely.

His fingertips ran searing hot lines down my spine and I felt him groan into my mouth. His palm cupped my arse and crushed my body against his, letting me feel every curve and taut muscle. "Cinesra," he breathed my name in crushing desire and I turned into molten liquid. I whimpered as his teeth slid and bit down on different parts of my tongue and lower lip.

I was cautious about his thighs and didn't move to hurt him in any way, but I felt my body itch to be touched more, harder. I trailed my palm down the curve of my breast pressing the tips of my knuckles against his chest, soon reaching his arousal.

"Kitten," he moaned sucking on my tongue before pulling away "be careful what you're asking for. You over estimate my self control."

I looked up at him through my lids and lowered my head to the top of his crotch, letting him watch me descend. I moved my cheek to rub against the hard bulge and felt my core clench as his eyelids fluttered shut. His hands moved to thread into my hair softly and his body shifted to press into my cheek firmer. My mind was on fire, letting all my inhibitions slip through my fingers and only focusing on this beautifully tortured man in front of me. He captivated me in every way, I was a prisoner due to my own consensus.

"Kitten's like to rub against things," I whispered, a new form of confidence sweeping through my person. "I want to feel you, Master"

I heard him swallow above me before pointing his gaze at the strokes of my cheek against his linen-encased cock. He lifted my head up from the tip of my chin before moving to remove slip dress. My breasts pooled out from the fabric and my nipples pebbled under his gaze. Everything felt dirty and sinful, and I never wanted hell more.

"You're so beautiful, baby," he said reaching to pinch both my nipples. I arched my back and smiled lazily, moving my head back up to see the worship in his eyes. "I want to taste every single inch of you, and then carve my name," he paused. "Right here," he sighed moving his hand to cup my pussy.

"Undress me," he commanded. I nodded my head and obliged, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the floor to join the mess we made. After he was fully naked, I went back down to crouch near his length. My knees folded and my stomach touching my thighs, I rubbed my lips along the head of his nude cock.

"Mmm, Kitten," he moaned holding himself at the base of his cock. He moved his erection so it danced around my face, letting the tip touch my cheek, nose, eyelids and back down to my lips. A strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, and I was enraptured. He looked so driven and held such an authority that I wanted to succumb to his pleasure almost as much as I didn't.

He smiled down at me and moved a thread of silver hair behind my ear before spitting down at his cock. His spit splattered against my lips and pooled at the tip of his cock. I licked around my mouth and didn't let my eyes leave his. Slowly, he repeated the earlier action; now moving his wet length around my face and dipping back into my mouth.

I sucked on the tip of his head, watching his eyes roll and his mouth part roughly. "You drive me crazy, Kitten. You love being a little whore for me, don't you Cinesra?" he asked

I nodded my head hastily, "Yes Master. Only you"

I felt like I was in a trance. Something fueled by desire and the need to let go of everything I once believed in. Everything I once was. Almost every bone in my body clicked into a new gear and I felt reborn. The daze cleared and it made sense to kneel down to him, to let him have his way with me, to be a pet that's teased to the edge of insanity.

Once he was pleased, he pushed my body back until I was lying flat on my back. His bed was as comfortable and smooth as I remember it to be. From having to sleep on the cloth clad floor to laying on a mattress that caressed like silk, my body locked and my muscles paralyzed with gratification. I felt Micah lean against the bed beneath me and when I inched my head to look at him, I felt a sharp slap on my thigh.

"You're not to move," he breathed out. His voice came out coarse and aroused, like the picture of my pussy was enough to ease his ache.

I grimaced and let out a small whimper from the slap, but after the initial sting dissipated I felt the wetness pool between my thighs. I closed my legs in order to hide the embarrassment, but I felt warm hands deliberately wrap around my thighs and pull them apart until I was laying completely exposed.

Hot breaths came down on my pussy and my chest rise and fell rapidly in anticipation. I had no idea what would happen next but I obeyed and kept my head pressed down, trusting my Master irrevocably. I felt his breath coming closer, making the hair on my arm stand on guard, covering my body in gooseflesh.

"I'm going to drink your milk, Kitten," he said softly, almost to himself. "I'm going to make it feel good, and taste your sticky sweet pussy. Fuck, I've wanted to taste you here for so long." I felt his fingertips pressed against my thighs and I parted them further, rewarded with a groan from below. I felt humiliated and degraded, but it felt like slow wildfire consuming me. It felt like bliss. 

"This," I heard him breathe before feeling his mouth latch onto the bundle of nerves near the uppermost part of my sex. His tongue curved up and my I moaned out in relief, he sucked on the flesh before biting it gently and retreating. My eyes were pressed shut and my hands had clenched the bedsheet beneath me. "is a clitoris, Kitten"

"Master, please" I begged, the words fumbling from my mouth. "Please, please, please"

"Please what, Kitten?"

I stared up at the ceiling and felt his fingers trail around the edge of my pussy, not daring to leave but not coming close enough. He maneuvered down to lick up my opening. "This," he repeated, making me groan in frustration "is your opening, waiting...begging for my cock to enter you"

"Please!" I yelled out, sobbing from the need of release.

"Answer me and I shall listen," he said in a disturbingly calm tone.

" _Please_ , Master. Please don't stop, I want you to take me with your mouth. Eat my pussy," my voice was not my own. Instead, a frenzied and feverish version came out and pleaded. I couldn't fight the urge, nor did I want to.

I heard a small snicker, then his tongue reached down my opening. Impatiently licking and sucking at my clit, before lapping the arousal from my slit. I felt my body writhe on the bed, and my stomach curl from the pressure. Soon enough, a current washed over me, making me unravel against the pad of his tongue. Letting him drink me till I slept. 


	37. Chapter 36 - Micah | The Wreck and Hunger

** Chapter 36: The Wreck and Hunger **

I watched as her eyelids fluttered open later that night. The oil lamp still burned next to the bed and I had spent the last couple of hours memorizing every indent of her body. I watched as her chest rose and fell, ensuring she kept breathing. It was all that mattered, and soon the lines that marked my legs felt numb against the pain that ached my chest. Almost as if I felt the bittersweet sting of her leaving me all over again. Like it wouldn't be the last time.

She hummed in her sleep when was content. So I listened to those soft sounds, letting them reverberate through me. Her lips turned upward as if her soul was smiling. So I let myself imagine how they would look swallowing my cum. She had a small frown in the center of her brows, creasing her flawless face. So I kissed her as she slept, ensuring I didn't wake her.

This woman was tearing through my world, one brick at a time. It used to anger me, to let my entire being fall apart at the thought of her leaving. She was mine, and she had to know that she would never leave my sight. I still had the taste of her on my tongue, and I wanted it to be the only taste that lingered for the rest of my time on this god-forsaken land.

"M-Mic.." she stopped, clearing her throat before she corrected her mistake. "Master?"

"Yes, Kitten?"

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. It was not my intention, everything went black" she whispered into the soft sheets beneath her head.

I brought my fingers to her elbow and trailed them up the length of her arm before dipping into the wells of her collarbone. Soon, I reached her lips and I felt her body shudder against my touch. It raged a hurricane inside me to know that I could alter her breathing, change her attentiveness all in the touch of a finger.

"Do you-would you like me to reciprocate?" her voice was slightly higher now as my fingers now moved down the center of her breastbone. Paying close attention to the tops of her milky mounds.

"Hmm?"

"Would I have to take you... in my mouth, Master?"

My eyes snapped up to hers. She tilted her body forward and wrapped her hand around mine. I observed as her tongue swept out to lick her bottom lip before she looked down at my crotch with glistening eyes.

There was so many different contemplations flowing through my mind. I wanted to ask her about her family, her sister and her life before mine infected it. I craved to grab that lip and pull her towards me, licking every last inch of her mouth. I sought to know what changed her mind to come back to the manor. There was so much of her.

"What did you do before you arrived here?" I asked suddenly. The question had been boring into my mind ever since she told me the bread needed salt. My thoughts had been running so fast that I realized the abrupt timing of my question threw her off.

She swallowed and looked up at me gingerly. "I was usually in charge of the dough and pastries, Master. My sister-" I saw her chin quiver lightly as her voice faltered before she composed herself. "My sister did the baking and icing, while my Ma handled the money and provisions."

I tilted my head and studied her as she spoke. Once she finished, she looked down at her fingers before looking up at me in a jolt. Often I would see my kitten's curiosity get the better of herself. Her inquisitiveness drove many things.

"What happened to your Ma?" she asked with a soft frown. Immediately, she realized she spoke out of place and went to squeeze the bedsheet beneath her before hurrying, "Sorry, Master. I only meant to ask as to why-"

"She died when I was twelve to my name day," I breathed. "A fever took her and her death was caused my Father's ruin."

Kitten took in a sharp breath before she reached out and cautiously, gently placed her palm over my hand and squeezed. The small incident caused my lungs to capsize and all of the sudden, I was a young boy in frightful need of his mother.

"My father ran away when I was two years. A babe, and he left my Ma to fend for herself and my newborn sister on her own." Her voice trembled. It felt like our bodies were tethered, magnetized when she unconsciously shifted so that our knees were touching and only a sliver of space ran in between us. "He was a cruel man to do it, but I remember him. He was in love with another woman, and Ma told me that she was more important to him than us."

I threaded my fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead lightly. Before retreating, I whispered roughly "Some days I hate my mother for leaving us. Regardless of her choice in the matter, I hate that she married my father and gave birth to us only to make us fend for ourselves."

"It wrecks me everytime I look at Lockie and see his laughter in her. I don't remember much but I remember the bastard's laugh. I can practically hear it through her kindness. Sometimes I dream of setting the woman's house on fire. Dropping oil around her and watching it tumble to the ground."

I removed my lips from her warm skin and saw as the tears ran down her cheeks. This was something different for us, something raw and igniting. I felt her anger and her body simmered with my rage. The rage we felt for the world around us. It almost made me smile, when I realized the cruel irony. I was probably some of the why she was angry, her captivity and her slavery were all in my hands.

I watched her look up and when she noticed my emotionless features, she blinked and drew back. I could see the slight hatred purse her lips as she started to realize what I had already. I was just another monster in her life full of them. This wasn't real, everything about us was directed by me. Her brows pulled together and her tears weakened, her mind drawing together that I wasn't her lover. I could never be her lover and whatever happened between us would be kept in the dark recesses of midnight.

* * *

       

When I woke the next morning, I dressed and ventured down. The sun hadn't risen and I knew my father would have still not arrived from his whereabouts. 

After drinking a mug of hot tea and eating a small breakfast, I ventured into the kitchen to give my plate to Radella. She was always an early riser, and often caused Elle to wake up at the same time. I smiled whenever I thought of my little sister and her lovesick affair. I needed to believe Father would be dead by the time she wanted to settle down with someone. I couldn't have him marrying her for business purposes, much like he did for me. Much like I know he will do for Finn.

When I entered the kitchen, Radella was chewing on some hard bread and listening as Elle spoke to her. Before either had noticed me, I saw the bruises that lined Radella's neck, clutching onto the dark skin as if someone had ravaged her the night before. I instantly smirked, wishing Finn were by my side.

"You look brilliant this morning Miss Radella," I sighed making both of them jump as I placed the plate on the countertop. "Although, you really must be a very busy woman, Rad... Having to sort all the cooking must really cause a strain on your neck."

I saw as Elle flushed a bright red and Radella started incessantly coughing on the bread. I sat on the tall stool next to my sister and asked both of them if they had a nice evening. Elle murmured something under her breath and Radella made a large scene when taking the plates away, marking her leave.

"You're a wicked piece of work, do you know that?" Elle muttered as she picked up the bread that Radella left behind and took a large bite out of it.

"Almost always," I say with an arrogant smile "I take pride in it, as should you. It's a Waitstill trait."

"Well thank the saints I'm not one of them then" Elle said before smiling back. I saw her laugh lightly and stole the bread from her hand before taking the last bite. Finn and I often teased Elle about her last name, she would always be our family. But she was lucky she wasn't a Waitstill.

I chew on the bread and swallow as Radella walks back into the kitchen front wiping her wet hands on her cotton apron. I saw her look at Elle before noticing me in the room, and her body visibly relaxed.

Getting up from the stool, I rose to make my leave. Before exiting the kitchen, I turned back and frowned at Radella. I didn't know what made me want to say it, but I did anyway. "Rad?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"We need to start stocking bread with a substantially decent amount of salt."


	38. Chapter 37 - Cinesra | The Raspberry Jam Society

** Chapter 37: The Raspberry Jam Society **

That day when I woke, I felt my thighs ache and my spine weep at the uncomfortable position I lay on my master's bed. I knew he wasn't in the room, regardless of the knowledge that he was an early riser. By then, I could feel his energy in some of the most crowded rooms.

Reminiscing through the muscle memory of last night, I trailed the tips of my fingers up the length of my calf and closer inward to my thighs. There was a pulsing ache right at my core and it took all my efforts not to touch myself. I wanted to find out if I could make myself shake like he did the night before. I clenched my fist and gingerly moved my hand down before rising up and yawning.

I sighed a breath of content at the satiation. A small smile tickled the corners of my lips as I finally understood that peace could be found internally in even the understandably chaotic times. I felt my mother's warm caress wrap around my shoulders and told myself that it wouldn't be the end. I wouldn't stop fighting. I heard Lockie's whispering to her flora and dangerous questions and knew one day I would tell her all about the hassles in life that make you bloom.

I shut my eyes to the future and instead focused on the space around me, the now. It was how I would cope mentally. I distracted myself with the small moments. So, I reached up and briefly ran my fingers through my matted hair. My master's bed softly curved around my body and my body yearned to sink back into the cotton and fall asleep once more. Instead, I wanted to take a chance and venture out to the bath houses. I hadn't asked Micah if I were to remain in his room until he released me to be free about the manor but from the temporary discharge I received last night, I decided it was worth it to push my luck.

I stepped down from the bed and walked toward my cage where my water bowl and a new slip lay. I knelt down to sip some water into my mouth and then slid the new material over my body. After scrubbing powder on my teeth from Micah's basin, I exited the room with caution.

I heard no noises nearby and the hallway that lead to the staircase was empty of figures. There was a small inkling of excitement that coursed through my veins at the prospect of being caught by my Master. I hadn't recognized if it was nervous excitement that belonged to a fearful part of my heart or a wanton one. I gingerly walked out to the hallway and looked to see that the staircase leading down had only members of staff scattered around.

I edged down with small confidence and surely enough, I was in front of the Slave Quarter's before I knew it. I pushed the door open and walked down to the bath houses, knowing Brin, Belly and Aderyn were possibly taking their morning washes. When I entered the steamy space, my eyes cleared to see them all in our usual bath. We had all been comfortable with each other's bodies. Belly, Aderyn, Brinley and I had seen far too many naked bodies to count and so the sight of flesh no longer caused discomfort. Both Egerton and Lincoln were nowhere near, and my relief cascaded down. I ran towards them and nearly slipped on the watery floor. Yet still, I tightly wrapped my fingers around the edge of the tub and grinned down at my friends.

* * *

 

I'm knelt behind the tub, my arms around the edge and my chin on the back of my hand. I smiled softly as Brinley told all of us about the time he managed to convince a potbellied chancellor that he could turn water into wine because he was touched by an angel of God. I laughed for the first time since my arrival at Waitstill manor, when I saw Brinley's eyes spark with mischief as he explained how he stole the chancellors knife instead and yelled 'eat some fruit' as he ran.

Just as Beldon was about to reply with a smirk, the doors to the bath house blasted open. I turned to see both Egerton and Lincoln walk down towards the bath were I sat near. They were arguing amongst themselves and didn't seem surprised that I was no longer in my Master's bedroom. I inched into myself as I saw them walk with purpose towards us. I wanted to close my eyes in hopes that they couldn't see me, but I wasn't twelve years to age and the world wasn't that kind.

"You are not in charge of this, Lin-" I heard Egerton breathe under his breath as Lincoln puffed out his chest.

"Please will both of you follow us, your company has been requested by Master Micah and Master Finn." Lincoln stated glancing at Brinley and then me, giving no attention to Egerton much to the other man's chagrin.

I turned to Brinley and see as he looks between the two men hesitantly, as if waiting for the true reason they were present.

"Do take your time," Lincoln sarcastically huffs adjusting his collar. "It's truly a pleasure having to listen to Egerton try and find a way to turn his mouth off."

"Oh for bloody-" Egerton begins moving towards us, hands perched on his waist. "Get up before I make you!"

At the tone of his voice, both Brinley and I immediately stood up and Egerton turned around and marched towards the door without waiting for both of our bodies to follow. I saw Brin reach down for his cloth and dry himself before putting his slip on. I started walking as soon as he did, with Lincoln following us in close pursuit. My fingers itched with curiosity and I wondered if I was in trouble, and what would the punishment be if I were.

When we were escorted into the main foyer, my thoughts ran wild. We were soon taken into the grand dining hall and a sharp breath flew through my lungs as I took in the sight. The table was laid with the finest white linen and the candlelight above set a beautiful glow on the food atop. Jars and jugs with colorful substances  accompanied platters of hot bread and sweetmeats. Berries were stuffed into buns with sparse sugar lining the roll. My eyes caught the bright yellow of the yolks that were on each plate. 

I counted. Six plates laid out infront of the dining chairs. My breath caught when I felt warm fingertips brush against the small of my back. I tilted my head to the side and breathed in his scent. 

"Good morning, Cinesra." he spoke softly, only to me. 

I swallowed at my name, and looked at him with slight trepidation. He smirked lazily and walked past me to his seat on the table. I saw Finn then, alongisde Elle and Theo all walking towards their places on the table. Theo looked down as he sat at the head of the table, murmuring to Micah beside him. Without giving paying any mind to his brother, my master motioned for me to join him. 

I finally understood and I assumed Brinley did too, because we both started walking towards our places beside our masters. Once I reached, I knelt down and placed my palms on my thigh, ensuring my back stood straight. 

"Kitten," Micah whispered from above me. I looked up and saw the small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. I was nearly struck cold at the sight of a genuine smile. 

"Yes, Master?" my voice sounded hoarse. 

He waited two beats. Then; 

"Join me." 

Simple worlds that splintered like the bones of a tree down my body. I felt my brows pull together his smile pulled even higher. I turned my head to the side and couldn't see Brinley's soft knees kneeling. Instead, I saw the naked pads of his feat as he sat next to Finn. My head snapped back towards my master. His father wasn't in the manor and perhaps that solicited the warm invitation to eat from the table that they sat on. 

When I languidly rose from my spot and made my way to my chair, I finally realized why there were six plates. The hall filled with silence as my hands shook, pulling the wooden chair outwards. When I sat down and folded my hands on my lap, I looked to Micah for any further direction. 

Before he could even open his mouth, I heard a rough voice from the end of the table. 

"If this your version of spiting Father, I assure you it won't go down well." Theo spoke looking down at his plate. Somewhat sedated, somewhat angry. 

Micah never took his eyes off me, but still spoke directly to his brother. "Then, please leave Theodore" 

I saw Theo mentally battle against himself and the presentation of his father before he looked up at his sister. Elle saw his gaze and immediately faced down and started running her fingers across the linen liner. She swallowed and I knew there was something more with all four of these siblings than what was on the surface. Theo's lips pursed and he frowned directly at me. In a moment, I was frozen against his hold. He was quite beautiful in a damaged way, like a flower that was thrown out a carriage because it held one less petal than the rest. 

Then the sound of his chair scraping against the floor echoed as Theo made his leave. Finn coughed and I looked down at the egg on my plate in an effort to find direction. Theo was most like their father, but Micah still seemed more dangerous. Almost every Waitstill including their sister had some sort of demon within them, and those who surrounded themselves with their company seemed to end up with a contaminated mind. 

"Seems like we are one guest short," Micah murmured sounding disappointed with himself. "Eleanor, would you go and ask Radella to join us. Only fair since she cooked this delicious meal for us." 

I snapped my head up and looked at both Finn and Elle shocked at Micah's request. My face seemed to mirror theirs as I turned to Micah and frowned confused. He seemed like such a different man without his father dictating the next actions. Perhaps that was it, his father would already punish him for his recent behavior so he was pulling all the heavy metal in his artillery to win this self-waged war. Or perhaps it was his upcoming marriage to a stranger, all the sacrifices he would have to make. This was not kindness, this was rebellion. 

When Micah turned to me, I could see the tiredness in the creases of his eyelids. I briefly heard Elle stand from her seat and mention that she didn't know an Eleanor. My lips pursed in appraisal, I wouldn't bow down to his feet when I knew that this entire meal was for selfish reasons. Yet, I wasn't stupid. So I faced away from his, looked at Brinley before reaching out for a slice of sourbread and dipping it inside the egg yolk. 

After this, everybody started reaching for food. Brinley took the marmalade and jams and all but spooned them into his mouth while Finn never once let his eyes waver from the boy. When Radella entered, she looked at Micah. "I don't know what this whole theatrical act you got going, Mother Mary, but if I hear an inch of a complaint from any of you about my kitchen's cooking while I sit here, I will be spitting in all your meals from here on out." 

I choked on my slice of bread and heard Micah snicker beside me. Radella sat and from the slight of vision, I saw Elle grab her hand and squeeze softly. Micah kept looking back at me to see if I was eating, and Brinley had crumbs all over his slip. Finn and Elle both looked enamored and my spoon was rarely empty. After that, conversation rang out with timid excitement and slowly the food across the table disappeared. 


	39. Chapter 38 - Micah | Lady of Leather

** Chapter 38: Lady of Leather **

Once breakfast is cleared and everyone makes their leave to their respected rooms, Kitten and I remained. I heard her laugh for the first time during what I thought was going to be just a regular breakfast meal. A laugh that was a bit too loud and a bit too beautiful, it caused a severe anguish inside me, wrapping my lungs in thorns. I hadn't been able to take my eyes off her after that, it had been a taxing mission prior to her outburst at something my brother said, but after I heard the sweet sound genuinely fall from her lips, I gave up completely.  

I was looking at her then, my head perched on my hand as my elbow lay on the table. I felt like a schoolboy, blatantly wanting to court the only angel in the class that wasn't interested. Except I could never have her in this life. Not in the way that she deserved. I didn't know how, nor did I want to ponder on the idea as it would never happen. I was Lucifer in a house full of demons, and she came sacred, a holy rite made to burn me at the stake. 

She turned to me and flushed a deep red. She stared down at her feet and briefly curled a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking to the floor. "Master, I was wondering," she murmured. 

My lips tugged up at amusement as I watched her falter over her words. I leant back against my seat and rubbed my knuckles on my lips. "Yes, kitten?" 

"Well, I-" she breathed and tipped her chin up slightly, almost as if she were administering confidence within her mind. "I wanted to ask for permission to read your scripts. The parchments in your room, the storybooks." 

I saw her visibly holding her breath as a small memory encapsulated through the air. 

_"Did you ask for permission?"_

_"Master, please... It's only-"_

_"Did you ask for permission?!"_

It had felt like so long ago when I punished her for rummaging through my possessions. But now, she's joined them. Mine to keep, and the image of her feline-like body in my room for the first time filled me with a depraved sense of pride. 

I stood from my chair and made no move to answer her, but knew she would follow. I ascended the staircase and heard her footsteps fall behind me. I smiled at the patter of her breaths, slowly quickening with anticipation of the unknown. 

When I entered my bedroom, I gazed at the wooden racks that held rows of bound books. Most of them had been my mothers and it was the only materialistic object father had let me keep. The only other object I kept from my mother was the ring she gave my brothers, Elle and I when we came of age. It infuriated my father whenever he saw us wear it, but after her death it became a brand of pride. For our mothers sake, my father let us keep the tokens of memory. The books however, I hadn't had the courage to pick up one since her death. Sometimes, I think they still smell of her, still have the indents of her fingertips on the spines. Her notes jotted haphazardly along the fragile parchment. The ink still holding her tears. 

I walked forward to that corner of my room and reached out for a book. The same one that I ripped apart and punished Kitten with the day I found her with it. This particular one wasn't my mothers, but it was a Waitstill heirloom. One I didn't care for, but needed to have taught her a lesson. I opened it and watched as the pages lazily fell into place. I looked up at Kitten leaning against the doorframe, arms folded into themselves and her teeth worrying her bottom lip. 

"Come here," her body jumped at my voice.

She licks her lips and proceeded to nod and walked toward me. I shut the book in my hand with a force and she finally looked up, staring right at the heat in my eyes. I frowned slightly before tilting my head and waiting. Waiting for her to understand, she's a smart girl, it only took a second for recognition to seep into her features. She swallowed and cautiously looked down before lowering herself on all fours. Then, she crawled. 

Heat sunk straight to my cock and I felt my mind race with images of her in much worse positions. When she reached my shoes, she rose her head up, hair falling to her sides in tresses and breathed out, "Yes, Master?" 

I walked around her saw her arse perked in the air as her back arched. I knelt down on one knee and kissed the soft flesh. Her soft moan and the way her body spasmed at my touch stiffened my cock completely, and I felt the strong need to lift her stupid dress and push into her. My arm rested on my thigh and the other held the book. Using the edged leather of the book, I moved it underneath the material of her slip and lifted it up to bare her arse up to me. 

I could her her breathing quicken and the unadulterated thought that she was already aroused caused me to groan aloud. "Only good girls get to read, baby" 

Her head fell down and she rose her arse higher for me. Such a little minx. I licked my lower lip and started to rub the bound back of the book against her cheek. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, so the position gave me the perfect sight of her wanton core. Her little cunt swollen in between her pressed thighs. I wanted to see it drip. 

"Are you a good little girl, kitten?" I ask slipping the curve of the spine lower down to the crack in between her arsecheeks. She shuddered beneath and I heard a soft moan escape from her mouth. I could not see her face nor her features, but the manner in which her body slowly rocked against the book gave me no hesitation to believe she was just as hot and needy as I was. 

After a few moments of no response, I raised the book before slapping it down onto her flesh. "Answer me, Cinesra" She bolted forward from the shock and a gasp flew, but like the good pet she was, slowly her back resumed the same position and her arse was in front of me. 

"Yes, Sir," she whimpered.

"Do you want this book, Kitten?" 

My cock throbbed within my pants as I saw her cunt begin to glisten from her arousal. I purposefully edged the spine of the book near her pussy, but never let it touch the place I knew ached. God, she was a sight like this. Her head down, arse up and her entire body in flames of desire for something as mortifying as being spanked my bound parchment. 

"Yes, Sir" 

I lifted the book once again to hit the same spot as before. This time, I heard her moan in a mixture of pain and pleasure. I caressed the skin with the leather before all but growling out, "Use your fucking words, kitten" 

"I- I want the book, Master" her voice matched her body. Wanting. Then, she carefully parted her thighs a short distance, but big enough for me to see all the way down to her little clit. It was a conscious move and I wanted to lick her everywhere for it. 

I waited a handful of treacherous beats. So much so that I wanted to rip the buttons of my pants apart and fuck my fist because of the torment. In excruciating silence with only our breaths to hover inside the room. The door behind us was still open, anyone could walk in and see us. Yet, nothing stopped me. Then; 

"Where," I asked. 

She drew in a sharp breath, and whimpered. I saw her thoughts unearth, could practically feel it reverberate through my blood. She wanted to be deviant and corrupt, needed it. But at the same time, there was still such a small portion of her holding on to her innocence, to the reminder to let this be what it really is; a master and his pet and nothing more. I should have known though, that my kitten was a lot of things but predictable was never one. 

"On my..." she stopped, her pride getting the better of her. 

"Where, Kitten?" I pushed, tipping the edge of the book closer and closer to her pulsing heat. I needed someone to paint my kitten in this position, with the color crushed from flower petals to symbolize her mind. With the wood from the brush to be splintered just like her desires. With her cunt pigmented with tart honey so that I could always remember how much I needed to taste her. 

Again, no response. But her body moved back, her back arched so the curved spine moved lower. I spanked her again, but I knew this time she was asking for it. She groaned an animalistic sound, and mewled out "On my pussy. Please, on my pussy" 

I smiled a crooked smile, devilish enough that I'm glad she couldn't see me. Lowering the book, the leather parted her cunt and fitted snugly in her slit. She moaned and wracked in relief as I moved the spine lowly, watching the material darken with her wetness. "Oh, kitten," I couldn't help but palm myself with my other hand. Pressing into my cock the same time I pressed the book into her pink little pussy. 

"You're such a little whore for me," I breathed out, my voice cracking at the seams. "Always so wet and ready, your body practically begs to be filled, Kitten. You were made to be fucked, Cinesra" 

At the sound of her name - and I couldn't tell which one - she pushed back against the book and started rutting against it like a dog in heat. She rubbed down so the book touched her clit, before moving back up and repeating the process once more. I could see her become more sluggish, her fervor close to a climax. Her moans more desperate then. 

So I pulled the book away and watched her entire body capsize. She groaned out in frustration, and rutted the empty air. I reached forward with the hand that was caressing my length and pulled her hair back. Her body slumped against mine, her arse lay on my thigh. So close to my cock, but not close enough. I pulled her hair back, and watched her sob out at the sensation. 

Her head fell back onto my shoulder and her long neck lay exposed. Her chest matched my rapid rhythm and her cheeks were flushed. I looked down at her lips, which were now a deep red. I realized she must have bitten into them hard enough to cause a small tear. Without thinking twice, I slipped my tongue out and licked away the iron droplet, tasting her, letting her seep into my system. 

I raised the book in front of her face and watched her eyes trace the dark leather of the spine. 

"Look at the mess you've made, Kitten." I breathe into her neck, dragging my mouth up to the curve of her ear, biting into the cartilage. She squirmed in front of me and her hands found my thighs, digging her nails into me. 

"If you want to read it, I'm afraid you're going to have to lick it clean" I was sick for wanting her like this. Subdued and lust strumming through her veins into mine. 

 Without responding to my comment, my kitten poked her tongue out from her mouth before pulling against my grip to near her lips to the spine of the book. And being the good girl she  _promised_  she was, she did as I asked and licked it all clean. 


End file.
